The Rebels
by frankannestein
Summary: Volume 2 of the Cat's Cradle Trilogy. After the fall of Thundera, Felline joined the ThunderCats on a journey to collect the Power Stones before Mumm-Ra. Along the way, she learned what it was to love. Now she has to learn what it means to be a friend, because the one she loved is still in love with someone else.
1. Walk the Cat Back

**_ThunderCats in its entirety © Warner Bros._**

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Hard to admit that, not so long ago, she'd believed technology was nothing but a fairy tale. Too bad their cozy little family setting, of she and her sister sitting their philosophic lessons with Master Korvu while their father, Commander Snow, reported for duty at Cat's Lair, had been a lie. She was free from her sheltered life, or so she liked to think, spared from the terrible fate that had befallen Lepra. Instead, she had become a proficient mechanic under Panthro's tutelage, and one of her best friends wasn't a living creature at all, but a robotic bear. One who, like all of his kind, liked to give gifts.

Ro-Bear Bob called this one a gunblade.

Felline drew the weapon from its thigh holster. Folded up, it was slightly shorter than the laser rifle given to her by the old hound, Jorma, after Thundera fell. She'd learned to shoot by hunting skirlls. She'd learned to kill by battling lizards and their warmechs. Double-barreled, Ro-Bear Bob's sleek, silver and red gunblade packed twice the power of Jorma's pieced-together rifle.

It was also twice as heavy. She frowned down at it.

Its weight didn't affect her aim any, which was nice. WilyKat had started calling her and Tygra the crack shot twins. But to use the gunblade in close-quarters combat required a great deal of strength and muscle mass. Snow leopards as a rule were petite, and she was no exception, standing a whole head shorter than Lion-O. No, the difference between them was more than that now, for he'd grown when none of them were looking, tall enough to meet Cheetara eye to eye.

Which he tried not to do anymore.

Felline sighed. Now was not the time to be thinking about the tension that had ballooned between Lion-O, Cheetara, and Tygra, which was so thick it could suffocate. She had a job to do.

So, the switch. Her industrious little berbil friend had designed the rifle-to-sword mechanism to engage at pre-programmed flicks of her wrist, so that the blade would not deploy with random movements. She tried it, swinging the heavy weapon as self-consciously as ever.

With a faint hydraulic hiss, the blade arced from between the barrels. Two hinged arms unfolded like stork legs as it went, and then locked into place. The thin blade was edged on one curved side, a delicately pointed saber rather than a broadsword.

She swung the gunblade again, one-pawed as Lion-O and Tygra had taught her. Both princes had learned swordsmanship at an early age from Generals Panthro and Grune.

Grune. The sabertoothed cat who had turned traitor and was now dead. The only death of a fellow cat that Felline could condone, and think of without regret. He had betrayed King Claudus. He had brought Mumm-Ra and the lizard army down on Thundera. He had tried to kill Panthro. The collapsing Astral Plane had claimed his life. Let whatever judgment that awaited him in the Great Sky Cat's Lair deal with him. It was no longer her concern.

Her left arm poised to deflect imaginary incoming blows, Felline slashed and thrust at the empty air, feeling the burn in her arm, shoulder, and back. She then dexterously flipped the saber around in the right sequence to cause the blade to retract once more, which allowed it to fit snugly in its thigh holster. Despite her late start in swordsmanship, the royal brothers were good teachers, practicing with her every day, and had given her the green light for taking the gunblade into battle.

Speaking of which.

Kneeling, Felline pricked her ears forward. She stared into the rocky, iron-gray canyon that cut wide grooves through the land on the west side of Berbil Village, opposite the unnamed fungal forest. She could hear the peculiar, buzzing hum of WilyKit and Kat's newest toys – a pair of matching hoverboards, one pink and purple and one blue and silver – coming closer. Sure enough, they appeared around a bend in the walls and swooped to a stop in the box canyon below.

A single hovercraft purred to a halt in front of them, preventing any escape. The curves and bends in the canyon were the only reason the twins hadn't been fired on yet; obviously thinking they had the advantage, the lizards didn't fire now. From Felline's vantage point, the craft looked like a snake's head, its plating shining like olive green scales in the sun. Since it was a scouting craft, only ten lizards manned its deck guns and turrets. And they were right on schedule.

"Looks like you're trapped," one of the lizards said in a dry, sibilant voice that echoed around the stark canyon walls.

"_Are_ we trapped?" WilyKit asked. Felline could only see the top of her pink and purple head, but she could hear the sly smile in the kitten's voice.

"Or are you?" WilyKat cheerfully added. He gestured skyward with a sharp claw.

Lion-O stood at the edge of the cliff, backed by the giant, washed-out circle of Third Earth's largest moon, Leo. His armor was as blue as his eyes, darker than the sky. He raised his left arm, and the sun winked off the pink facets of the Spirit Stone, embedded in the Gauntlet of Omens. From the Gauntlet, he drew the Sword of Omens, which lengthened in the same movement, ever attuned to its master's wants and needs.

"ThunderCats, _ho_!" he yelled, thrusting the Sword at the semi-cloudy sky.

The Sword growled, eerie and otherworldly, blazing with blue-white lightning. Heart swelling, Felline watched the play of light as if hypnotized.

Unfazed, a lizard below pointed a deck gun at the young king and began firing. Pretty much the response they'd all expected. Lion-O threw up his Gauntleted arm, and the Spirit Stone also awoke. A pink shield of light blossomed in front of him, deflecting the attacks. It wasn't effortless on Lion-O's part, Felline knew; fangs bared, straining against the force of the laser blasts that threatened to pummel him to the ground, he angled the shield so that one of the shots bounced off it, flew across the canyon, and struck an outcrop of rock on the opposite side.

Lizards hurled themselves to the deck as sharp-edged boulders crashed onto the hovercraft. It rocked like a ship on rough waters.

It would take more than some rocks to disable it, however. As ordered, Felline waited on her perch while Lion-O charged headlong down the cliff. Another gun began firing, but he caught each laser blast on the Sword's sliver blade. Like a lightning rod, the Sword collected the energy until it reached the red Stone in the hilt. The Eye of Thundera opened with a louder, more menacing growl. A red beam shot from it, slammed into the hovercraft, and lifted it clear off its repulsors, flinging the lizards across the canyon like popcorn from a pan. The craft landed on its side with a crunch of metal, plowing into the rock. Smoking and sparking slightly, it lay unmoving.

_Lizards are nothing if not resilient_, Felline thought with grudging admiration as they collected themselves, hissing in anger, and lined up to face the Thunderian king, rifles powering up. She leisurely stretched out on her stomach, propping herself on her elbows. She peered through the gunblade's sights and put her finger on the trigger. _Must be all the cartilage in their skeletons. Sure would be nice to be able to get up after a fall like that as if nothing happened_.

Although she could have, she didn't fire. The lizards lifted their flat heads, slender necks stretching, as a sound filled the canyon. It was the sound of speed.

In a blur of sun yellow, Cheetara zigzagged down the cliff as if gravity didn't apply to her. The stupefied lizards stood like statues when the cleric blew by them, ripping their guns from their long-fingered hands and knocking them down in the process. While the last of them struck the ground, the cleric stopped, their rifles in a pile at her feet, her fist on her shapely hip and a smile warming her pale face.

Felline counted the thuds of their bodies on rock. _One. Two. Three . . . four and five . . . nine . . . ah_. There was the tenth. He had climbed to a ledge above Cheetara and was preparing to shoot her in the back.

A shot ricocheted off the rock in front of him, sending him cartwheeling backward in a cloud of dust. Surprised, Felline looked up from the sights; she hadn't done that. She glanced to her right. Tygra lifted his head, his paws wrapped around an equally fancy sniper rifle, courtesy of the berbils. He grinned and winked roguishly at Cheetara, whose answering smile was as radiant as a flame.

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_**A/N:** Squee! I was so excited to start Volume 2 that I just couldn't wait to post this! I want to continue the journey with the ThunderCats so that someday, I can bring the story to a full close. I hope you'll come with me. X3  
_

_Greetings and Salutations, Dear Readers. Welcome to the second installment of my CC trilogy. Not much to say this time around other than - Please review! I want to hear what you think, even if it's bad, especially if it's good. I welcome constructive criticism. I also return all reviews, because, hey, they make me happy._

_Until next time,_

_I remain humbly, gleefully yours,_

_Anne_


	2. New Confederacies, part one

The lizards sat in a forlorn group, feet crossed at the ankle. They had not removed their helmets, their eyes hidden by the red lenses of their goggles, and their wide mouths were pinched shut, all of them. They waited with the stillness only known to the coldblooded. Most wore metal or leather bracers around skinny wrists, all had strapped a single suspender crosswise over pale, slightly sunken chests. Their mottled hides made Felline think of a swamp in the rain, blue and gray and green and brown.

She wondered what a female lizard looked like.

Finally, Cheetara spoke. "What are we gonna do with them?"

"We're gonna let them go," Lion-O answered quietly.

Felline smiled down at her feet.

Tygra, however, was unimpressed. "_Excuse_ me?"

"They've fought under Mumm-Ra long enough to know they don't want to live under him," Lion-O explained, approaching the lizards. "This mission is not just a threat to cats. If we don't unite against him, we'll fall together before him."

That sounded familiar. Had Lion-O said it before? Or had she heard it somewhere else? In the swordsman's town, perhaps. . . . Felline frowned, trying to remember, but one of the lizards showed his pointed teeth in a derisive laugh.

"Cats and lizards united together?" he rasped. "If that's your plan for victory, you are a fool."

"Perhaps," Lion-O answered coolly, but his face was stern. "Still, the choice is yours. Return to the battlefield, or return to your families."

Startled, the lizards broke into hisses and whispers.

"Lion-O, is it really that simple?" Felline murmured.

She'd said it quietly enough that Lion-O didn't have to answer if he didn't want to, and his silence spoke more loudly than words. He didn't know, but this was the path he'd chosen, and he was prepared to deal with the consequences, good or bad.

Probably guessing some of this, the lizards' commander stood, as tall as the cat king but with wider haunches, stooped and tailed. He frowned at Lion-O, and then turned to his men with a reptilian smile. "Let's go home," he said.

Wordless, the other lizards stood and shuffled off, and with no thanks, the lizard commander followed them.

Felline let out a breath, tension flowing out of her. It had worked.

"You still haven't given up the idea that you can turn the lizards good just by cutting them a break," Tygra snarled.

"You saw what happened after we won the Spirit Stone," Lion-O said. "Mass desertions in the lizard army. This isn't their war. They don't even know what they're fighting for."

He finished in a low voice, pensive. He looked tired, the fur beneath his eyes shadowed faintly gray.

"All I know is what I'm fighting for," Tygra said, but he wasn't talking to his brother anymore.

Cheetara smiled at him. "That reminds me," she said playfully. "Thanks for watching my back."

She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"Well, your back's real easy to watch," Tygra said.

_Oh, not this again_. Felline's ears drooped. Whenever those two got near each other, they seemed to forget that anyone else existed. It had been bad enough to endure Cheetara's freedom of affection, with all her touches and kisses for Lion-O, but Tygra had no sense of privacy, either. If Felline had to listen to another of his cheesy lines, prince or not –

"Think I'm gonna hack up a hairball," Kat announced. He and his sister looked about as nauseated as Felline felt. She crossed her arms and nodded agreement. Lion-O's lower lip was pushed out in a very familiar pout, but he, too, looked nothing short of disgusted.

Tygra cleared his throat into his fist, which didn't hide his grin. "Sorry," he said, sounding anything but.

Lion-O glared at him for two seconds before he broke out in a wide smile. "Don't be. I'm happy for both of you."

The cleric and the prince glanced at each other, and both of their faces cleared as they smiled at their king.

"It means a lot to hear you say that," Tygra said sincerely.

"How about we get back to the Berbil Village and check in on Panthro?" Lion-O went on, speaking to the twins. His right paw closed around Felline's upper arm. She glanced sidelong at her friend, but could only see him wearing the same smile.

"I think that's a good idea," she said gamely.

In unison, the kittens rose into the air, feet braced wide and paws lifted. "Yeah!" WilyKit said, grinning. "If those furry little bears can make these hoverboards, I can't wait to see what they do with Panthro's new arms!"

They surfed off, leaving the air shimmering in their wake. The four adults followed on foot, taking a barely-discernible trail through the safer parts of the canyon. Felline walked with Lion-O, lengthening her shorter strides out of habit.

"Do you really think they can put Panthro back together?" he asked.

Felline lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Have you ever heard a berbil lie? I don't think they _can_."

"Except by omission," he reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. I don't see why they would say they could if they couldn't, though," she returned. "Besides, Panthro seemed pretty expectant this morning. Can't hurt to let them try."

"True," he said.

Berbil Village opened before them in an array of candy colors, mushrooms glistening, the pink bowers arching high overhead, the scent of fruit wafting through the gap between the canyon walls. Felline inhaled, a peace she hadn't known in a long time infusing her. A peace that, for a while, had been disrupted by the tom at her side. It wasn't like that anymore. She would always think him handsome, not too tall, strong in a way that appealed to her, his presence as bright as his red mane. He had a lion's maleness that couldn't be ignored. But he was her friend now. They talked, and laughed, and spent time together, and once she stopped hoping for – no, _expecting_ more from him than he could give, she found she could treasure their friendship, and that it was more precious than any kittenish crush.

As they neared the great golden structure that served the berbils as a hospital and workshop, she broke into a jog, eager to visit the first cat that had seen real worth in her. Gruff, angry Panthro, gray as a thundercloud and about as soft as rusty nails – they wouldn't have made it this far without him.

"_You call these arms_?!" she heard him snarl in disbelief.

"Uh-oh." Felline dashed the last few feet across the smooth, manicured lawn. The metal door automatically irised open as she neared it and she bounded through, grabbing the railing at the top of the entrance staircase to stop herself from toppling to the floor below.

"Berbil arms," Ro-Bear Bill explained in his canned, emotionless voice.

Felline tried to hold back a giggle, but it escaped in a kind of sneeze. Panthro scowled up at her, his good eye burning. Her tail flicked in suppressed amusement.

Lion-O stepped through right behind her. "How's it goin', Panthro?" he called as Felline bounced down the staircase. She approached the reclined metal chair cautiously, stepping over the cables and wires attached to it that snaked across the shiny golden floor. Like everything else the berbils manufactured, it was made for function, not comfort, but Panthro hadn't complained about it yet. He was too preoccupied with his new arms.

"How does it _look_ like it's goin'?" he snapped, holding up a very large, very round, very furry, very pink berbil paw. It was spinning like a top about to fall, apparently responding to stimuli but not Panthro's will. He clenched his jaw so hard Felline could hear his molars grinding.

"Aw, they're not so bad," Lion-O said soothingly, but he ruined it by smirking. "In fact, they're kind of adorable."

"Are you _trying_ to make me mad?" Panthro growled, the line between his bushy brows so sharp it might have been put there by a knife.

"Sorry." Smiling sheepishly, Lion-O changed the subject. "Good news. Another successful ambush. If things keep going this way, they won't have an army to stop us from finding the next Stone."

Once she was sure Panthro wasn't going to take a swipe at her, Felline took the unresponsive paw in her own, examining the four berbil claws, the palm and wrist, and then the servos and connectors wired into the stumps of his arms. Bill and his friends had done a good job melding flesh with machinery, even if they had been lacking a bit in design imagination. Bill tucked his hard little head under her elbow, onyx eyes glittering as he, too, examined their work.

"Just don't win the war before I have a chance to get a few more licks in," Panthro said, calmer now that Felline was there. The berbils listened to her, when they tended to go their own way and consult no one. His right paw spun and beckoned stupidly while she probed at the left. A tick started in his temple. "Can somebody please get these things off of me?!" he roared, sending the berbils running like frightened ants, arms in the air, faces blank.

"Ow!" Felline cried, slapping her paws over her sensitive ears, but Panthro glared at her, mismatched eyes deranged, as if daring her to ask him to apologize. "All right, all right, I'm on it, you old curmudgeon. Keep your fur on."

"Hey, I've _earned_ it," he retorted, relaxing against the hard, table-like chair, and then set his square jaw and muttered, "And I'm not that old."

Grinning, she strapped her goggles into place and grabbed a pawheld blowtorch. If he was feeling well enough to bluster like that, then he was going to be fine. She didn't notice when Lion-O left her to her work, because she was already asking the berbils for the parts she would need to fix their big friend. Ro-Bear Bella began drafting new blueprints based on Felline's requests.

By the time Cheshire, Third Earth's tiny second moon, reached its zenith, Felline and the berbils had made real headway in fabricating a new pair of arms. She closed up the workshop after the little bears had rolled off to their homes, turning out the lights over Panthro. The general was snoring softly, covered by a thin blanket, Snarf curled up on his chest. The petcat's tasseled ears twitched along with his whiskers as he dreamed. Snarf had taken it upon himself to care for Panthro in spite of Panthro's threats and curses, and only left him in order to bring food. He was probably as exhausted as the rest of them.

Silently, Felline let herself into the night. She stretched until her back popped. The village was empty – she didn't know if the berbils slept, per se, but she knew they would not emerge until the first rays of sun touched the candyfruit orchards. She set off toward the spherical building loaned to the ThunderCats as their sleeping quarters while the Tank was in the shop getting a rather extensive overhaul.

She saw a lone figure standing outside the door and thought it might be Lion-O, so she quickened her pace. Sometimes, he liked to take walks in the moonlight, not to talk, but to think, an exercise she was well suited for. The figure turned out to be Cheetara, however.

"How is he?" Cheetara asked quietly, so that Felline knew the kittens must already be asleep inside.

"Out cold." Felline rubbed her tired eyes. "If I don't go with you tomorrow, we should be able to finish his arms."

"That's wonderful news!" Cheetara tucked a lock of her hair behind a pointed ear. "I'll be sorry to leave you behind, but we have to keep up the pressure so that more battalions will surrender. Tygra thinks the plan will work, even if he won't admit it."

"Mmm," Felline agreed noncommittally. She bit her lip. "Cheetara? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," Cheetara said. She waited, polite as always, while Felline screwed up her courage.

"Why Tygra?"

Cheetara's lips parted and her sunset eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. Felline could feel the blood rising in her cheeks.

"Look, I know it's none of my business," she sighed. "I don't necessarily want to know – but – it's just –" She stopped.

"You're confused," Cheetara finished for her in a low voice.

Felline nodded. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's my fault." It was Cheetara's turn to sigh. "I wasn't very clear with my feelings and caused a lot of trouble. Believe me when I say that my heart has always belonged to Tygra. From when we were cubs. Do you know what it takes to enter the clerisy?"

"No," Felline said, startled at the sudden change in topic. "I imagine there's some sort of test."

"Yes. And I failed," Cheetara said. "I had no clan, you see. Nowhere to go. Tygra showed me an act of kindness that enabled me to pass Jaga's trial. I never forgot it, or him."

As she spoke, the same kind of love suffused her face that Felline remembered seeing on Lepra's. Her sister's attachment to the farmer Rachan then was as incomprehensible as Cheetara's behavior to Lion-O, and her choice of Tygra, was now. Felline realized that she herself could never have been in love, because, unlike her sister and her friend, she was most concerned with her own survival and feelings rather than someone else's. She simply hadn't been given the chance to grow that way. War and possible extinction could do that to a cat.

"I can't imagine what it would be like not to have a clan," she said softly. "My family was small, but it was mine. Sometimes I don't believe they're gone."

"The ThunderCats are my clan now," Cheetara said, smiling, "as we are yours. Out of great evil can come great good."

"True." Felline hesitated. "Have you spoken to Lion-O about any of this?"

"I don't think that's necessary," Cheetara said, raising her eyebrows. They were walking on thin ice now, both of them struggling not to get upset, painful and awkward though the conversation was.

"Maybe not," Felline said. She should drop it, she knew, but she could still feel Lion-O's fingers around her arm, as tight as if he was drowning and she was his only anchor above rough water. "But I know what it's like to be last. It's something you're born with when you have an older sister. Or brother. That's all."

Cheetara summoned a smile from somewhere. "Thank you for your advice."

She turned to go in, but she lightly touched one of Felline's paws as she did. A touch could say more than words. Relieved, Felline followed her friend inside.

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_**A/N:** Welcome, Dear Readers! Longer than usual chapter. Hope you enjoyed. :3_

_Just a little author-ness here . . . There is a lot in this episode that I can't show because Felline can't and shouldn't be everywhere at once. I regretted that she couldn't hear what Cheetara said to Tygra in the last episode, because I thought it was really good. I had to figure out another way to get her involved without actually sticking her in the middle of private conversations. I'm sort of feeling my way forward here, so I hope you'll bear with me. X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia** (Squee, first review! Thank you!), **Heart of the Demons** (Yes, sir! Thank you!), **Momochan77** (So happy you liked it. :3 Thank you!), **Mooncloudpanther** (D'aww, you're buttering me up, aren't you? heehee. Thankies), **The Night Whisperer** (w00t, excellent! Thank you so much!), **Darwin** (*huggles* Thank you so much!), **Blacktiger93** (YAY, glad you found it. Thank you!), and **CaptainCommanderLucy** (Thanks!)._

_Ever Yours,_

_Anne_


	3. New Confederacies, part two

True to her word, Felline saw Cheetara and the others off for their next ambush and then sequestered herself in the workshop with her four-berbil team, Snarf, and Panthro. Lion-O had seemed more preoccupied than usual; he wouldn't miss her today.

The finished arms were too heavy for Felline to lift. She stepped aside and let the mechanically-enhanced berbils lock them into Panthro's modified sockets. Bella had outdone herself. A black material that she called _prene_, soft to the touch but as strong as steel, stretched over the mechanisms like skin, giving the impression that Panthro had pulled on a pair of long gloves. The new paws were reinforced with jointed metal gauntlets, the elbows, wrists, and fingers appropriately feline. He even had a cat's curved claws again.

They all stepped back, watching expectantly. Nothing happened.

"I can't move them," Panthro said.

"Here." Felline knelt and opened a panel in the back of one paw. She reached in with her petite fingers and reseated a few fuses. "Try now."

"All right," he rumbled. The arm jerked. "Whoa – they're heavy!"

"Just a second. All we need to do is make the adjustments –" she started, but Bill had already popped the panel on the other arm and started soldering. After a moment, he raised his head.

"Ro-Bear Bill made adjustments to new arms," the berbil buzzed, his fixed mouth flashing blue with each word.

"The only adjustment I care about is making sure they don't look completely ridiculous," Panthro informed him with a scowl. It was clear he hadn't forgiven the berbils for yesterday's disaster.

Bill, however, calmly tightened a screw and then let go.

Panthro stood, taking the weight of the new arms in his shoulders. Real muscle rippled as he lifted his right paw and examined it from its metallic claws to its knuckle spikes. One side of his mouth lifted in a grin.

_Nyaa_, Snarf breathed, green eyes wide.

Felline privately agreed with him. The arms looked real, their movement smooth and organic, but with them, Panthro was even more impressive and deadly. And he was loving it.

"Hmph," he said in appreciation, raising his new fists. "Not too bad."

He threw a punch. A second one. Felline listened to the well-tuned whine of actuators, the hiss of hydraulics.

The right paw spun in a circle.

Panthro had time for a look of surprise before his own arm hauled off and punched him in the face. The left joined in, each paw trying to outdo the other in a contest to break his jaw.

"By the Great Sky Cat's Claws, make it stop!" he managed between blows. "Turn – them – _off_!"

"How?" Felline and the berbils dove for cover as the arms began extending like putty. Now she could see what Bella had meant about the prene's strength; no matter how far the fists whizzed through the workshop, smashing through equipment like an elephant in a china stall, the black material simply stretched with them without tearing. Panthro stumbled helplessly around the room, the swearing eye of a hard-hitting storm.

"Further adjustments needed," Bill said thoughtfully from his spot beneath a workbench.

Speechless, Felline stared at him, and then covered her head with her arms as crackling wires and broken bulbs rained down on her.

..::~*~::..

"Maybe I should just learn to eat with my feet," Panthro said waspishly. It was the first thing he'd said in an hour.

He was back in the chair, but he never would have gotten into it willingly; an accidental blow from one of the arms had knocked him unconscious, and at the sudden cease of nerve impulses from his brain, the arms had fallen limp along with the rest of him, which allowed the berbils to move him safely. They'd crunched matter-of-factly around the workshop, cleaning up the mess, while Felline and a couple of assistants feverishly worked to reprogram the arms before he woke.

"Panthro not worry," Bill said. He was either brave or incapable of feeling anything less than gut-wrenching terror. Felline suspected the latter. "Berbils make adjustments. Arms all fixed."

"Hmph," Panthro said again. He lifted an arm. Waved it. Made a fist. When nothing further happened, he grinned. "Adjustments are lookin' good."

Then he stood up and slammed the fist into the metal floor, shaking the building so hard that Felline actually lost her footing and grabbed the chair before she could fall. The fist pulverized the metal plating, creating a sizeable crater, and Panthro hadn't broken a sweat.

"Lookin' good," Bill said, as if all his friends made a habit of gouging holes in his floor. The phrase was a sort of code between him and the big cat, ever since the day they'd brought the little bear back to life. When Panthro stood up and smiled, slamming the paws together with a proud sort of finality, Felline knew they'd redeemed themselves.

Just then, WilyKat and Kit came running into the workshop, bringing with them the cool scent of night and two sweaty faces.

"Hey," Felline greeted, and then frowned. The kittens were panting as if they'd run a long way.

"You guys back already?" Panthro rumbled.

"It's Lion-O," Kit said.

That was all she said, but Panthro picked up on her anxiety right away. "Somebody fuel up my tank!" he bellowed.

"Berbils make adjustments to tank, too," Bill told him.

The berbils ushered them outside. A steady, throaty rumble greeted them. Speechless, Panthro and Felline stared at what had once been the ThunderTank.

They could see what was left of it, barely, which was the cockpit and front arms. It was dwarfed by the addition of what looked like another tank, as if it had partly swallowed the first one, making the whole vehicle three times its original size. It was huge. It was mean. It was armed to the teeth.

"Lookin' _good_," Panthro purred.

..::~*~::..

"What happened out there tonight, Kit?" Felline asked as a pawful of berbils drove the tank into the canyons, the way lit blue by all three moons. The berbils had installed enough seats in the enlarged cockpit for all of the cats to claim one, a decided improvement.

"They're fighting," Kat said disgustedly before his sister could answer.

"Well, yeah, the lizards –"

"_No_," he interrupted, sticking his small, pugnacious face close to hers. "_Each other_."

"We saw the same lizards we convinced to desert earlier," WilyKit explained, tucked into a ball in one of the seats. Her big, golden eyes were too old for her face. "Tygra said they must've been picked up by their own army."

"They were prisoners. Lion-O wanted to save them –" WilyKat said, picking up the narrative.

"– but Tygra and Cheetara said it was too dangerous to save lizards who could turn on us tomorrow," Kit finished.

"Lion-O got mad that Cheetara sided with Tygra," Kat added, throwing up his paws. "Then he sent us back."

"He said he was going to do it alone," WilyKit said to her knees.

Panthro and Felline exchanged a glance that showed how well each of them understood what the kittens hadn't said. In spite of her urging Cheetara to speak with Lion-O, Felline seriously doubted the cleric would have brought it up on the battlefield. Which meant, of course, that Lion-O had pushed the issue.

Felline sighed sadly. Lion-O had loved Cheetara, had believed that she'd chosen him. They _all_ had. Everything she'd said, everything she'd done, the way that her eyes were always on him – Cheetara had chosen Lion-O. But she hadn't. She'd chosen Tygra. Tygra's betrayal was only half of it; the other half, Cheetara's betrayal. Felline didn't see Lion-O getting over it any time soon. Not when their presence and openly-shown love for each other was a constant reminder of how they'd played him, day after day.

He would never be happy for them.

"Don't you worry," Panthro said reassuringly, patting Kit's head with surprising gentleness, considering he couldn't feel his paws anymore. "We're goin' to help."

"Right," the kitten said, sitting up a little straighter. If she scrubbed an arm under her nose, no one let on they noticed.

They saw the battle long before they were close enough to do anything about it. The light from laser blasts striking the Spirit Stone shield flashed through the dark like fireworks.

"What is that?" Felline breathed, squinting through the windshield. Dark shapes battled across the fading glow, two of them frighteningly tall. "_Who_ is that?"

"Magnify," one of the berbils buzzed. He touched the screen in front of him a few times, and then the windows all flickered, proving them to be screens as well. The battle bloomed across them, large as life.

"A jackalman," Panthro said darkly.

The jackalman was tall, his fur red-orange and cream, his narrow muzzle split in a maniacal grin that put all of his short, sharp fangs on display. Yellow and red eyes rolled for a moment before closing. Nostrils flared, the canine scented the night. Then he threw up a fist and Tygra fizzled into view. Another punch sent the tiger to the ground. Quickly for an animal so big, the jackalman seized Tygra's whip and bound his arms with it. Then he stood behind the kneeling Thunderian prince, laughing soundlessly, an ax pointed at the back of his prisoner's head.

There was no sign of the captured lizards.

"All right, let's get their attention," Panthro said. He leaned over the berbil in the pilot's seat and began priming the weapons over her head. "Here, and here."

"Roger," said the berbil in the copilot's seat.

The tank thundered over another few miles. Meanwhile, the screens played out their soundless drama.

Slithe and the jeering jackalman seemed to be calling for a surrender, but Lion-O was having none of it – until Cheetara broke off her attack with a monstrous, white-maned monkey and threw Viragor's staff to the ground. Lion-O stared at her, mouth open in horror, and while he was distracted Slithe brought both knobby fists down on the back of his head. Lion-O dropped like a stone.

The monkey's thick arms snaked out and scooped Cheetara into a neck-breaking headlock. She looked like a stick figure crushed to his massive, hairless chest. Slithe and the jackalman lifted their axes.

Panthro fired.

He couldn't aim directly at Mumm-Ra's generals, but he got close enough to cause the monkey to release Cheetara. Four missiles struck the rocks, separating the combatants. When the dust cleared, it revealed Cheetara and Tygra leaning protectively over the obviously disoriented Lion-O. Ro-Bear Bethany stomped on the accelerator, and the tank growled up on its back treads, clearing the last hill before the battlefield. There, she brought it to a stop. Felline was sorely tempted to tell her to drive over Slithe's foul body, but there wasn't enough room to maneuver the gargantuan vehicle in the canyon. Bethany couldn't terminate him without endangering their friends.

Panthro climbed to the top hatch and let himself into the night. The outer cameras relayed his image to the screens inside. The big cat stood atop his monstrous baby and raised his new arms with a burst of pressurized water vapor.

The paws extended, shooting out like cannonballs, and landed a single punch on the monkey, the jackalman, and the lizard, knocking each one out cold.

"You'll get plenty more chances to tangle with these beasts. Now get in!" he yelled at Lion-O.

Ro-Bear Brandon lowered the cargo doors in the back. Cheetara, Tygra, and Lion-O sprinted aboard, and Bethany tore up the ground with the treads as she roughly turned the tank. Felline hoped she'd hit Mumm-Ra's generals on the way by, but she could see them in the triple moonlight, furiously gathering themselves together as the ThunderCats made their escape.

"Don't get so down, kid," Panthro rumbled once everyone was gathered in the cockpit, sounding as if he himself had never been depressed a day in his life. He slung a brotherly arm around Lion-O's shoulders. "You only lost the battle, not the war."

"With these new generals, their army will be stronger than ever," Lion-O dully told his feet.

Which meant that all of their work these past few weeks had been for nothing. Panthro may have been fixed, made whole after the horrible accident that had taken his arms, but they were no closer to getting the next Stone than before.

"We'll get through this," Panthro assured him, refusing to let anything dampen his euphoria. "We just have to stick together."

Felline glanced back long enough to see how silently and stiffly Lion-O, his brother, and Cheetara stood, the scowling Lion-O not meeting anyone's eye. Misgivings uncoiled in her middle. She knew that scowl.

Sticking together might be the one thing that they couldn't do.

* * *

_**A/N:** Look at that, slightly longer chapter parts than usual, and the first episode is done. :3 Yay, me! Actually, it's only because so much of the ep dealt with scenes on the Mumm-Ra end . . . and I LOVED the introductions of Kaynar and Addicus and am super sad I had to cut them out. Sigh. Next chapter should make up for that. *wiggles eyebrows*_

_By the way, shameless plug (in case anyone reading this didn't see it): I wrote and published a giftfic for Mooncloudpanther. __おまけ劇場 (Bonus Theater): Ruins We Call Home. It was fun to do something a little different. :3 There may be more of those in the future!_

_Reviewer Thanks! Actually, I'm just going to put a blanket thank-you out this time because so many of you had the same reaction: That you liked the girl talk between Felline and Cheetara. I was honestly (and pleasantly) surprised. I'd been avoiding the typical "girl talk" because I can't stand stories that either don't have enough women, or only have women who talk to each other simply to be talking about the men in their lives. So unrealistic! But, in this case, I took a gamble, and I'm super grateful you liked it. Thank you, all of you, for the reviews! :3 **Heart of the Demons**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Darwin**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Momochan77**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **keykeybaby6**,** Seeds of Destruction**, and** Blacktiger93**._

_Yours,_

_Anne_


	4. Judgment Day, part one

"What are you doing? I thought you were going hunting."

Felline jumped. Lion-O leaned into the motorcycle, crossing his arms on the edge of the open cockpit.

"I am," she said from inside the cockpit. She tried again, and again unsuccessfully, to start the engine. The cycle stayed dark and quiet around her.

"What I meant was, why are you taking this?" he asked, amused. "You've never done that before."

"The herds moved last night," she explained, giving up for the moment so she could give him her full attention. "I have to go about fifteen miles west if I want to catch up to them."

He stood up, amusement gone. "Why doesn't Cheetara go?"

_Cheetara_? Felline stared at him. He wasn't even doing her the courtesy of looking at her while he spoke. _Seriously_? Her ears flattened. She was about done with him taking his feelings out on them. _She_ hadn't done anything wrong, so why was he continually punishing her?

"It's my turn to hunt," she snapped, "and since I'm not a cleric, Tygra said I could take his cycle. Now, if you're done, we've got a couple of hungry cubs waiting on me, so . . ."

Dismissing him, she sat forward, grasped the yoke, and squeezed the throttle as she'd been told. Nothing happened.

"What am I doing wrong?" she cried in frustration. She knew she had the sequence right. It wasn't even that hard! The yoke, however, remained stubbornly locked in place. She resisted the urge to bang her forehead into it.

"Well, it helps if you have one of these," Lion-O said. He dangled something in front of her nose. A key. "When I saw you leave without it I followed you," he said, blue eyes apologetic.

"Oh. Thanks." She went to grab it, but he held it out of reach.

"Scoot up," he said. He put a paw between her shoulder blades and the other against the seat, and then pushed as if prying something open, mashing her against the front console.

"Wait, what are you doing? There isn't enough room for two cats in here!" she squeaked.

"Sure there is." In a flash, he vaulted inside, wiggling in behind her.

It was a tight fit. Face flaming, Felline hunched over the unresponsive yoke. His knees kinked up under her elbows, his hard thighs clamped on her hips. She curled her tail around her waist, wishing she could squeeze until she disappeared.

"Here, lean back," he said, pulling on her shoulder, sounding supremely unfazed by the way they were folded in and around each other.

_That's because he's still in love with_ her _and doesn't see_ you _that way, dolt. And you don't see him that way, either_!

"What for?" she asked her lap, and was grateful for how even her voice sounded, when she couldn't seem to catch her breath. She didn't have a lot of experience around toms, but she was pretty sure this much contact wasn't normal between friends.

"The seat is too far back for you," he said reasonably. "If you lean against me, you should be close enough for your tiny feet to reach the pedals."

"You have _got_ to be kidding." But she did as asked, slowly, until the hardness of his armor pressed into her back. He was right, unfortunately. The seat reclined and wasn't adjustable; she'd been hoping to drive by holding herself forward with the yoke, which would have made steering difficult, but it wasn't like she'd been willing to let that stop her.

"Here." The key materialized by her left cheek.

She took it, inserted it into the ignition lock, started the engine, and then let out a shaky breath as the yoke lifted and the cockpit sealed over their heads. The screens flickered to life, showing the pre-dawn plains and the smudge of a storm on the eastern horizon. To the north, wide, gray cliffs cut swaths of blackness across the stars. Panthro had parked the tank at the feet of one of those cliffs. Once again, they'd left Berbil Village behind, and were on their own for food. "Thanks. Now tell me why you're really doing this."

"Uh . . ." He sounded embarrassed. He shifted under her. "I'm hungry?"

"Nice try," she said, but she couldn't stop a smile that he wouldn't see. "Hold on to something."

She closed her fingers on the throttle and released the clutch. The motorcycle growled into motion, zooming smoothly from its hangar under the ThunderTank's right paw into darkness, its headlight so bright that it made the screens glow.

..::~*~::..

Felline and Lion-O spread out a tarp beneath the strengthening sun. Together, they piled their morning's gains on it: various fish from the river, courtesy of Lion-O, and a brace of jackelopes from Felline's foray onto the plains. They set to work cleaning and butchering the jackelopes, which were almost as big as chib-chibs, discarding their racks and skins. Her stomach growled.

"That should do it," she said, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her face with the back of her arm. The smell of blood would draw other predators if the sun got much hotter. Already flies were gathering, buzzing around them. "Let's get washed up and then we can head back."

"Sure," he said. He made no move to secure the load of meat to the cycle and instead crouched in front of it, staring at nothing.

"Hey," she said. "Thanks for your help today. I couldn't have gotten here without you."

He smiled as if embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I wish the others appreciated what I do as much."

By "the others," she knew he meant Tygra and Cheetara. Even though she'd been about to head for the river, she crouched next to him. "It does seem like they're being harder on you than usual."

A flash of blue, there and gone, but she saw the surprised gratitude in his eyes. "She's determined to stick with him no matter what," he said sullenly, all the hurt resurfacing in an instant. "She was willing to surrender to Slithe, Addicus, and Kaynar rather than help me win, all because they threatened to kill Tygra. I wasn't going to let him die."

Addicus, the monkey, and Kaynar, the jackalman. Mumm-Ra's new generals. He went on. "If we'd just _fought_, we would have saved him! And Tygra. After what we went through in the Astral Plane, I thought we'd finally reached an understanding. I thought . . ." He shook his head with a snarl and stood up. "I thought that brothers looked out for each other, but I guess I was wrong."

"I probably shouldn't say this, but I agree with you," Felline said with a sigh.

"You do?"

"Well, yeah." Shrugging, she stood. "He's been kind of inconsiderate of you since he got what he wanted. I don't think he's doing it on purpose, but that doesn't make it right."

Lion-O snorted. "That's because he's a big –"

"I don't mean your behavior has been exemplary, Your Majesty," she interrupted.

He looked as if she'd slapped him. "Oh, so _you're_ going to criticize me now?"

"Yes. I'm older than you."

"Only by a year," he quickly protested.

"And four months."

"And I'm not even sure I believe you. I mean, come on. Look at you." He grinned, his natural playfulness asserting itself. Tygra had gotten that part right, at least. Lion-O did like to goof off.

It had been a long time since she'd last done it, but she gave him her best Stink Eye. He visibly shrank from her. Playfulness was not a kingly trait – she couldn't imagine Claudus acting like an overgrown cub – so where on Third Earth had Lion-O gotten it? "Nobody's very happy right now," she said. "There's this thing called morale; we don't have it. There are eight of us packed into a very small space. We're fighting for our lives and for the planet. We're hungry. We're tired. We're homeless. We need to be able to trust you to lead us right, so maybe you could stop taking shots at Cheetara and Tygra for a while. Nothing you say is going to change how they feel about each other. Hasn't Cheetara already apologized for, well, flirting with you this whole time?"

"I don't know if you'd call it an apology," he muttered, and began gathering the edges of the tarp together. "Know what she told me? She said Jaga ordered her to keep an eye on me. That's why she's here. Not because of _me_, but because I'm the king."

Felline winced. "I'm sure that's only part of it," she said softly.

"Yeah. And the other part is that her heart belongs to Tygra." Angrily, he hefted the bundle onto the back of the cycle and lashed it into place. Then he sighed. "Maybe you're right. Father always said I was ruled by emotion."

He grinned at her over the cycle. "I can't promise anything, but I'll try. Our goal is the Stones, right?"

"Right," she said. Then she paused, wondering how far he would let her go as far as advice was concerned. "You know, it's all right to ask for help sometimes."

She was about to head to the river for that much-needed washing when Lion-O called after her. "Like you trying to drive a cycle too big for you without asking for help?"

She blushed; she could feel it. "I would have been fine."

"Uh, huh." He gave her a half-lidded stare. "On the way back, try to remember that you have brakes."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought we were gonna die when you almost crashed us into that tree," he said. "You must have found every goofer hole from there to here, too."

"I did not!"

"Maybe you should get your eyes checked, then. Or you could just let me drive."

Let him drive? There was no way they could sit the other way in the cycle – she'd suffocate. Felline spluttered at him for a moment, but when he started laughing, it dawned on her that he was teasing her. She turned on her heel and stomped away. Between Tygra and Lion-O, it was clear neither one had a respectful bone in their bodies.

_Toms_! If they were all this impossible, she was better off hunting alone from now on.

* * *

_**A/N:** Phew! I feel like I'm treading into dangerous territory here as the series swings back on itself and really starts to raise the stakes. I have to be very, very, very careful in their relationship at this point. Hope I'm doing all right. *crosses fingers*_

_Second shameless plug! My second giftfic is published, this one for WAR-Operative. __おまけ劇場 (Bonus Theater): Fall of the Empire. Check it out, please?_

_Reviewer Thanks! Because you guys are the BEST. **The Night Whisperer** (Haha! I think that was a little bit of author insert, but I'm glad you're with me! Thank you :3), **CaptainCommanderLucy** (Thank you!), **Heart of the Demons** (SWEET, thank you!), **Blacktiger93** (Thank you! :3), **Momochan77** (Hee, me too! Thank you!), **KelseyAlicia** (Thank you!), **Mooncloudpanther** (Yeah, that was kind of disappointing, wasn't it? Oh, well. Thankies), and **AllHailMedusa** (Ch1: I completely agree. I mean, I know why they did, but it felt cheap. Ch2: I'm really surprised that people liked that, haha! Ch3: I agree with this, too. Thank you very much for the reviews!)._

_Ever Yours,_

_Anne_


	5. Judgment Day, part two

Daylight revealed a harsh place. The cliffs soared above the ThunderTank, twisted, wind-blasted trees clinging to life in whatever crevice they could find. Springy green moss prevailed, especially in the spray from the river. It was too rocky for grass, however, except at the very top, which was heavily forested.

"How about we fire up the Book of Omens, Panthro?" Lion-O asked heartily. Apparently, a full belly and a morning away had done wonders to improve his mood. He grinned and rubbed his paws together. "Find out where that next Stone is."

Felline plopped cross-legged in a seat, watching as Panthro powered up the navigation device. The jewel in the Book's cover lit up from within. The red globe appeared above it, and the compass flared to life and pointed –

"_Up_?" Panthro asked, startled. Everyone tilted their heads back and stared at the column of light, straight as an arrow, that shone above the Book. Panthro's square jaw tightened the way it always did when he was irritated. "How can it be _up_?"

"I don't know," Lion-O said, still hearty, "but if the Book says the Stone is up, then that's where we're going."

He leaned forward and tapped at the console. All of the screens lit up and showed a mosaic of their surroundings. Bright blue sky, Leo and Cheshire sharing a slow, misty dance across it, and the cliffs.

The _cliffs_?

Felline gazed openmouthed at the perpendicular rock face. What looked like a road had been roughly carved into its side, a square-edged, three-sided tunnel, open to the wind and a sheer drop on the fourth. It rose slowly and disappeared around a corner to reappear on the other side, spiraling up the mountain.

"Why does _up_ always have to be so high?" Tygra asked no one in particular.

"The Book can be cryptic at times," Cheetara said. She raised her eyebrows at Lion-O. "Maybe you're misinterpreting the message."

"Wouldn't be the first time," he said, and Cheetara's eyes narrowed. He turned away, no longer affecting heartiness. "But I've learned my lesson."

Just like that, the mood soured like week-old milk.

"Have you?" Tygra snapped. "Because heading up there feels like another wild goose chase."

Lion-O scowled at him, at Cheetara. "When _you're_ king, you can do things your way. Now let's go."

Alone, he descended the ladder that would take him to the cargo hatch, either not caring if anyone was coming or fully expecting them to heel when called. They did, but not without dual whining from the kittens and a hurried, whispered argument between Cheetara and Tygra. Nobody followed orders gracefully, not even Panthro. The big general set his jaw and walked off without a sound.

"Come on, let's get this over with," Felline said, putting her paws on the backs of WilyKit and Kat's heads.

Both turned big golden eyes on her. "You don't really want to go up there, do you, Felline?" they asked in unison.

"No," she said, eyeing the cliff apprehensively. Lion-O had already reached the mossy incline and begun the hike. "But we have to."

"Says who?" Tygra asked, hearing her. "We need more information before we go charging up into who knows what."

"I agree," Cheetara said.

Privately, so did Felline, but she frowned at them. "Yes, but _he_ doesn't think so. Since your advice is falling on deaf ears, the best thing we can do is let him see for himself. Besides, none of us really know what's up there. What if he's right?"

"He won't be," Tygra said, entering the road next.

"Seriously?" Felline demanded. "You're going to just pass judgment like that? Well, he won't listen to you as long as you're always badmouthing him, so why don't you shut up? This is partly your fault."

"Don't take it out on Tygra," Cheetara said icily. "Lion-O is simply acting out of anger and jealousy. Why would you defend that sort of behavior?" Turning her back on Felline, she fell into step behind her boyfriend.

Felline bristled, tail stiff. Tygra was the one picking the fight, not her! She silently appealed to Panthro, but he didn't so much as look at her as he walked by. Fists clenched, Felline fell into line behind him, the kittens trotting at the rear.

The road, if that was what it was, was huge, large enough for two elephants to comfortably walk side by side without hunching over. Although clearly put there by some force, it wasn't as flat as it had seemed from the bottom, but rather stony and uneven. It smelled damp and old, like a forgotten cave that hadn't felt the tread of warm feet in years. The wind grew stronger, the air thinner, as they ascended. Lion-O marched ahead, never once looking back. To their right, in the bottom of a small canyon, the same swift, broad river Lion-O had fished in that morning coursed through its own winding road. From the forests on its far bank, the sounds of avians and insects drowned out the sound of water.

After a time, when nothing changed but their altitude, Tygra called, "Do you even know where you're leading us, Lion-O?"

Instead of answering, Lion-O walked faster, as if hoping to distance himself from them.

"Right into Mumm-Ra's hands if you ask me," Panthro rumbled quietly. He glanced around, muscles tight with tension. "We're totally exposed to attack on this route."

_Great_. Now that Panthro had brought it up, all the fur along the back of Felline's neck and arms started to prickle. A lizard attack would crown the day, wouldn't it?

However, Lion-O still did not speak.

The twins' labored breathing was growing louder. "How much higher can we go?" Kat groaned. He stopped to catch his breath, bracing his paws on his knees, forcing everyone but Lion-O to come to a halt.

"I'm more worried about the way down," WilyKit said. She and her brother peered at the dark river below. It had entered a true canyon, which was as deep as the mountain was tall, the river's banks nonexistent.

"Maybe we should consider turning around," Cheetara said, her eyes on the kittens. Then, as mildly as she could, she spoke to Lion-O. "What do you think?"

With a growl, Lion-O finally stopped and turned back. Felline had no idea what expressions their friends wore, but she couldn't keep the weariness and anxiety out of hers. She was tired, she was thirsty, and she was afraid that, once again, they were headed in the wrong direction. She wanted to wholeheartedly support Lion-O, but even she had her doubts. They simply didn't have enough information.

Lion-O sighed, as if on the verge of agreeing to return to the tank, but something on the road ahead caught his eye. "I think," he said, and then sighed again, resigned. "We should stop here for a quick rest."

_Quick_ was the definition of WilyKit and Kat, who darted forward curiously. They went from frowns to smiles in a heartbeat and ran up the road as if they hadn't been on the verge of collapse a second ago. Then Felline caught the scent on the wind, which explained their delight.

"Candyfruit!" they hollered, laughing and cheering.

Four rubbery pink trees had claimed a portion of the road, protected from the worst of the wind and bathed in sunlight. Candyfruit juice, though too sweet for her tastes, was better than nothing for a parched throat. Eagerly, she started for the bounty, Panthro right behind her. Things were looking up.

Then Tygra had to open his mouth. "First good idea you've had all day," he said aggressively, scowling at his brother as he walked by. As soon as he passed Lion-O, the scowl turned into a self-satisfied smirk.

"Knock it off," Felline muttered under her breath, and then wanted to kick herself for being such a coward. Tygra, with his smaller ears, couldn't have heard her, but she didn't really want to chance setting things off again if she spoke louder. All the constant bickering was starting to wear on her, like a heavy weight on her shoulders. She longed to put the weight down.

Instead, she climbed a tree to its lower limbs, tucking herself at the intersection of two branches, which gave her easy access to the fruit hanging from a neighboring tree. With the corner of her eye, she watched Lion-O scale her tree, passing her clump of the ball-like fruit. He picked a blue one on the way.

"Lunch will be easy compared to finding the Stone," he said happily, reaching for a large, golden fruit.

He picked it, brought it to his mouth to take a bite, and WilyKat lifted it right out of his paw.

"Too slow, Your Highness," the cub said, grinning. He took an enormous bite, green juice staining the fur of his chin.

Then, while Lion-O was scowling at him, WilyKit took the blue fruit from him. "You really need to keep your eyes open," she said, and then giggled. Lightly, she hopped over to her brother, and both burst out laughing. They dug into their stolen fruit, grinned at each other's ridiculously bulging cheeks, and kept eating.

"Thanks," Lion-O said ungraciously. "I'll try to remember that."

He resumed climbing.

_Uh-oh_, Felline thought, her own meal forgotten as she watched him. The kittens hadn't meant any harm, but today probably wasn't the best day for their usual pranks. If she'd been closer, she would have given him one of her fruits and been done with it, but he had set his sights on another blue candyfruit hanging precariously over the lip of the road. It was just out of reach, and he stretched for it, fangs bared.

"You always do things the hard way, Lion-O," Cheetara called from the ground. Unlike the others, she was calmly picking up the fallen fruit, which hadn't been sitting long enough to begin to rot.

_Yes, and that doesn't sound condescending at all_, Felline thought, taking another bite to keep herself from saying anything. She was still smarting over Cheetara's earlier comment. Why couldn't Cheetara, who was usually so wise, see that the more she and Tygra goaded him, the more Lion-O insisted on following his own way, no matter how difficult or stupid?

Lion-O got his claws on the blue fruit but couldn't pluck it. Tygra's whip lashed out, snagged the fruit, and released it into the tiger's waiting paw.

Startled, Lion-O let out a silly little yelp. He hugged the tree to keep from falling. "Hey!"

"A king should never eat before his people," Tygra said with a sort of smiling sneer. Felline hadn't seen him there, nonchalantly perched a few branches above herself. He began to eat.

Instead of replying, Lion-O pushed on the branch with all of his strength, shaking the entire tree. Tygra and Felline both lost their balance, but while Felline arrested her fall at the sacrifice of her fruit, Tygra fell right out of the tree and landed with a grunt on the hard, stone ground.

"Or lose his temper," he added, pushing himself into a sitting position amid the ruin of candyfruit rinds and puddles of sticky juice.

"Lion-O!" Felline yelled before she could stop herself. She clung to the tree with her arms, a leg, and her chin, trying not to slide off the branch's smooth, pink skin. Her claws dented but could not break it. "That wasn't fair! I didn't do anything to you. You never think about the consequences of your actions."

Lion-O dropped out of the tree, landing on his feet. "Oh, is that it?" he snapped. "You're all against me?"

"It's not us, kid. You're your own worst enemy," Panthro said gruffly but gently as he climbed down, lifting Felline down behind him. He wasn't accusing anyone of anything, simply stating a fact as he saw it.

"He's right, Lion-O," Tygra said, but he was still smiling in an unkind way. "You may be the king, but that doesn't mean you can't learn something from us."

"It's all right to ask for help now and then, remember?" Felline put in, attempting to soften their criticism. To her dismay, he paid her no mind. Apparently, their heart to heart of the morning was ancient history, already forgotten. Lion-O glared at all of them, a cornered cat, back arched and eyes afire.

The _crack_ of a missile launching sent echoes thundering through the canyon. It slammed into the rock above their heads, incinerating one of the fruit trees. There was something sad about the way the fire ate through the pink branches, turning everything to black ash and orange embers.

* * *

_**A/N:** I am so excited about this episode! Mostly because I have an extra bit planned that I'm working on simultaneously. I just want to put out a little thank-you to all the people who have favorited/followed this story so far. Thank you!_

_Also, Reviewer Thanks! It's another bulk one because so many of you were united in liking the last chapter for its fluffiness. I can't even tell you how happy that makes me! X3 *heartheart* I couldn't stop giggling at your comments. To each of you, thank you so much for leaving a review! **Momochan77**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Darwin** (twice!), **Heart of the Demons**, **KelseyAlicia**, and **Blacktiger93**. I love you guys so much._

_Happily Yours,_

_Anne_


	6. Judgment Day, part three

"Ambush!" Lion-O shouted.

Two more warheads detonated. Flying debris engulfed Panthro and Felline. Coughing and choking, blinded by smoke, burning wood, and sharp-edged rocks, she stumbled right into a company of lizards. She never even got the chance to draw her weapon before they relieved her of it and forced restraints around her wrists. More missiles exploded, cloaking everything on the mountain pass in confusion. The lizards lined her up at gunpoint next to Panthro, his new arms also restrained, his expression putting a hungry comolbur to shame. She flexed her paws; although the restraints looked no more technologically advanced than bands of steel, she surmised they were low-level pulse emitters which had effectively incapacitated the big cat, or else, she was sure, there would be a whole lot of bloodied lizards littering the road.

Tygra tried to fight, but Addicus was ready for him. When Tygra uncoiled the blue whip with a flick of his arm, the hulking monkey grabbed it.

"Not gonna hide this time," Addicus said, flattened lips curling up at the corners, and buried his pink fist in the prince's face. Tygra was knocked clean off his feet.

"Tygra!" Cheetara called. Before she made it more than three steps, Kaynar snatched her back with an orange-furred arm across her throat.

"You run like a girl," he told her, muzzle dropping open in an insane, high-pitched laugh.

Felline felt a flash of hope, for Snarf and the kittens were still free – but, no. The lizards headed them off, too.

Lion-O drew the Sword of Omens. He would have run to the twins, but Slithe fired at him from behind, striking the Sword's guard. The laser blast blew the Sword out of Lion-O's paws and he toppled forward with a grunt. He regained his feet in time for Addicus and Kaynar to grab his arms, stretch them tight, and put him in a headlock.

It had been a perfectly executed attack. The cats, too busy fighting each other, had been effortlessly captured by their enemies. Horrified, Felline watched as Slithe shuffled up to their king and picked the Sword off the ground. It didn't matter that the hilt and Eye were shut tight – the scaly mutant should never have put his hands on it. Extending his long arm, he also took the Gauntlet of Omens off Lion-O's belt.

"We have the Sword and Gauntlet," Slithe gloated, yellow eyes gleaming. "Now, give us the Book!"

"I'd rather die," Lion-O rasped over Kaynar's arm.

Slithe's spiked tail whipped around, catching Lion-O across the cheek. Lion-O struck the ground hard, curling up with pain.

"You're willing to risk _your_ life for it," Slithe said, his pouchy face sullen, "but what about hers?"

He turned his head and fixed WilyKit with his reptilian smile.

The little wildcat gasped. Somehow, she'd gotten separated from her brother and Snarf, who were at that moment shoved to the ground at Felline's feet. Cheetara and Tygra were also restrained with the binders. None of them could do anything to help Kit, who stood alone at the edge of the cliff, fur on end, quaking from the top of her head to her skinny feet. Kat trembled along with her, so silently that Felline wondered if he was breathing.

"Better not hurt her, Slithe," Lion-O growled, speaking with difficulty around what was sure to become a roar of rage if he lost control.

"I would never harm such an adorable creature," Slithe crooned. "Addicus, on the other hand . . ."

Kit didn't make a sound, her eyes and mouth stretched wide in a scream that seemed to have gotten stuck on the way out. The monkey leered at her. She was smaller than one of his bare arms; he could crush her skull like an eggshell in his hand, if he wished. He lifted his club and held it above her head as if contemplating how best to prepare a meal.

Felline, beset by several lizards and their bayonets, couldn't move an inch, just like the others. They were several thousand feet up a sheer mountain in a confined pass, without an army of their own. No one could help WilyKit.

Except Lion-O. He moved like a striking snake, and snatched the Gauntlet out of Slithe's claws.

"Grab him!" Slithe cried.

If Lion-O was quick, Addicus was faster. Before the young king could touch him, he swung around and chopped the ground with his heavy club, just missing Lion-O, whose handspring deposited him at the very lip of the cliff, twenty feet away from Kit.

"Whoa!" he said, struggling to keep his balance as the rock, weakened by the missile barrage, crumbled like fresh cheese beneath his feet.

"Lion-O!" Kit shouted, her voice cracking.

She and the others watched, helpless, disbelieving, as an excited Kaynar bounded up behind Lion-O, put a paw in his back, and pushed.

"_Oop_sie," the jackalman said. Not once had he lost his grin.

Lion-O's yell filled the canyon, seeming to expand as the seconds ticked by, and then it faded.

Kaynar's tasseled ears flicked forward. "Think he'll land on his feet?" he asked Addicus mildly, as if asking for the time.

With all the boulders that had fallen with him, Felline heard exactly when Lion-O hit the water so far below. How deep was the river? Had the impact knocked him unconscious? There was no way to know. No way to –

"Fools!" Slithe snarled, wrenching Kaynar and Addicus aside so he could peer over the edge himself, in spite of the fact that they were both bigger than he was, the jackalman lean and tall, the monkey broad and burly. "He had the Gauntlet!"

– save him.

"You killed him," Tygra breathed, all cocky self-assuredness leached out of his voice. He sounded faint and sick.

When Cheetara spoke their king's name, a well of grief opened behind Felline's ribcage, a whirlpool of emptiness that swept away her insides and left her cold and half alive, unable to speak, to cry, to do anything. She stared at nothing, lips parted, and then her knees smacked into the ground when her legs gave way.

Slithe also dropped to his knees, head moving as if his eyes were scouring the river for a sign of the lion. "He has the Gauntlet with the Spirit Stone. Get down there and find it!" he snarled at his troops.

Lion-O was dead. Slithe had not ordered his men to capture the cat – no, he wanted them to retrieve the Gauntlet. A tremble started in Felline's belly, just below the empty whirlpool. Long ago, she'd pretended to save Lion-O from drowning. Once, he'd saved her from the same fate. Events had seesawed back again, and there had been no one there to pull him out of the river. This time, the water had claimed a life.

The tremble grew, seizing her limbs one by one. At Tygra's side, Snarf released a weak, hissing sob. Felline tried to pet him, but she couldn't force her paw to reach him. She slumped back, lacking the words to express the grief that consumed them all. It was a familiar place for her spirit to go, into the quiet emptiness where speech had no meaning.

Lion-O was dead.

..::~*~::..

"You!" a lizard shouted at WilyKit, the only one of the cats who had not yet been restrained. "Get over here, now!"

Kit, who appeared to have been drawing something on a flat rock with a charred stick of bark, got up and scurried over without complaint, joining her anxious brother. The stick disappeared into one of the pouches at her waist. The binders snapped shut on her bony wrists.

Several of the snake-head hovercraft came to collect them off the mountain. The ThunderCats allowed themselves to be herded onto one, their paws bound in front of them, rifles and bayonets poised at their backs, Mumm-Ra's three imposing generals overseeing all. Felline stood between Snarf and Cheetara at the nose of the deck. Thankfully, Snarf had stopped crying.

The wind of the craft's speed, cool but not as cold as it had been on the road above, made it hard to breathe but also dried the fur of Felline's face. It combed through her hair, pulling strands of it loose. Her tail brushed against Panthro's shins, Cheetara's hair washed across Tygra's paws. Kat had eyes only for his sister.

"Lion-O can't be gone," WilyKit said miserably, scrubbing the backs of her paws across her eyes. "I – I won't believe it."

"It's okay, sis. We're gonna get through this," WilyKat said, but Kit had started to cry, softly, like a newborn cub.

Cheetara bent down to the twins' level, her expression fierce. "There will be time for mourning, as soon as we take care of _them_."

She jerked her chin back. Felline risked a backwards glance. Stout Slithe stood with his freakishly long arms crossed over his chest, his thick tail keeping him steady, but Kaynar exuded ease and confidence, paws slack at his sides, letting the wind tease his beard and furry ears. The jackalman smelled like a dog, only wilder, like the tang of a hearth fire after it had burned down someone's home. Like the monkey, he wore a brown pelt breechcloth, leather bracers, and shin guards. His spaulder seemed to be made of the upper jaw of some fanged, horned beast. Addicus's helmet sported one small horn, its chin strap flapping free – he seemed to have no neck, his head sitting low between massive shoulders. Pale where Kaynar was fiery orange, he had tied trailing maroon ribbons to his biceps, and he'd noticed her looking. His yellow eyes narrowed. The tip of a smooth tongue touched his lower lip. Felline shivered and faced front.

"But how?" Tygra asked Cheetara, continuing the conversation without fear of being overheard. The wind was so noisy it would disguise their words.

"You always wanted to be king," Panthro rumbled. "Well, now you are. Just hope you got a plan."

Thick black brows lowered over dark eyes, and Tygra didn't respond. At least, not at first. Felline could practically see the scores of scenarios he was running through his head, that he was discarding, modifying, and finally, selecting. As quietly as possible, he then told them the plan.

* * *

_**A/N:** Christmas is over. The new year has begun. CC shall continue on!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Momochan77** (Originally, I wanted her to defend him more, like she did in "The Duelist and the Drifter," but I realized that at this point, she's got her misgivings, too. At any rate, I'm glad you liked that she did, even if it was just for a bit), **Heart of the Demons** (LOL, thanks. Unfortunately, it means that I perpetrate a lot of drama IRL, too), **KelseyAlicia** (Isn't it funny how we always remember that first episode of anything we see so strongly?), **The Night Whisperer** (Haha, I wondered how people would like that part! Glad that you did. :3), **CaptainCommanderLucy** (Thanks!), **Mooncloudpanther** (Hee, anytime, sweetie, any time!), **Darwin** (Too true!), and **Blacktiger93** (Here you go! Sorry about the wait . . .). To all of you, THANK YOU for the reviews! They truly make my day that much happier. X3_

_Until Next Time,_

_Anne_

_Oh, P.S. If you haven't checked out "Dissonance" by WAR-Operative and "Giftfic Exchange: Thundercats" by Mooncloudpanther, please do. They've both written me beautiful giftfics starring Felline. It's pretty awesome. Thanks!_


	7. Judgment Day, part four

After they'd traveled some miles, a second hovercraft zoomed up next to them. The lizards aboard didn't look happy.

"Nothing?" Slithe rasped.

"No trace, General Slithe," the commander responded. "Probably washed out to the Great Sea."

Felline closed her dry, aching eyes. The sea. Endless and blue. Cold and empty. Like her.

"Mumm-Ra will not be pleased," Slithe muttered. He waved dismissively at the commanding lizard, and the second hovercraft peeled away and flew off onto other business. Probably to report back to Mumm-Ra.

Kaynar appeared at Felline's shoulder. He leaned around her, yellow and red eyes bright with laughter. "But surely these cute kittens will cheer him up," he said.

When WilyKit, Kat, and Snarf froze up under his stare, he giggled madly. Felline's heart pounded in her chest like a prisoner trying to break free. She hated feeling so helpless; if the jackalman chose to attack one of the kittens, she wouldn't be able to stop him even though she was right there between them. He would cut her down without losing his grin. Besides, she had to wait. Wait. Just wait . . .

"If there's anything left of them," Addicus corrected him, laughing his deep-chested monkey laugh.

"I can assure you, Addicussss, there won't be," Slithe said, his forked tongue lingering on the consonant in his fury. He raised his rifle and aimed it at Tygra. "Yours will be the shortest and last reign of any cat king."

Tygra mumbled something under his breath that even Felline couldn't catch, much less Slithe. She lowered her head, hoping Kaynar wouldn't see her expression. This was it.

"What's that?" Slithe growled.

"I said," Tygra abruptly yelled, fangs flashing in the sunlight, "that I'd rather die a king than live forever as a mindless lackey!"

At that, Slithe decked him with the butt of his rifle.

"Well, you got one thing goin' for ya," Tygra said, grimacing around the swelling in his lip. "You hit harder than the monkey."

Addicus growled, "You wanna see how hard I hit?" Then he picked Tygra up and threw him from the moving hovercraft, leaping after him with a spring of his powerful legs.

The hovercraft jerked to a halt. All eyes were on the pair on the ground; Kaynar, giggling, asked, "Can I play, too?" before he hopped down to take his turn at beating on Tygra.

Aboard the craft, tiny, clever fingers flew. Tygra may have been buying them time, but he wasn't going to last long under the brutal blows raining down on him. Silent as shadows, Kit and Kat picked the locks, and the rest of the ThunderCats were free.

"Hi," Kit sang at the jackalman and the monkey, waving a pair of binders over her head.

Kat waved a second pair, grinning. "Hey, there!"

Both generals looked up, Kaynar with a furious snarl, Addicus with a ludicrous, slack-jawed stare.

Panthro, Cheetara, and Felline were already on the move. While the others went to help Tygra, Felline dropped to all fours and scampered across the deck, wresting her gunblade from a surprised lizard. She rolled to one knee and snapped off a shot, disarming Slithe.

"Lizards! Attack!" he shrieked.

Felline scavenged the rest of their weapons, tossing WilyKat's flink to him, while Cheetara shot by her in a blur, disarming every lizard on the craft. WilyKit happily accepted her flupe, and then they each dove out of the way as Slithe lumbered toward them. His yellow eyes narrowed, fixing on Felline.

Then his head snapped back from an unseen blow. Tygra appeared out of the air in front of him.

"That's for me," he said, drawing his arm back for another strike, "and _that's_ for Lion-O!"

Felline bared her teeth in a fierce grin. This was it. This was what the ThunderCats could do when they worked together.

Now, they just had to get the Sword.

Addicus grabbed Tygra, and they vanished over the side of the craft for the second time, boxing the whole way down. Felline looked around for Slithe, flicking her gunblade open. She parried a slash from a lizard bayonet, and then dropped and spun, sweeping the soldier's legs out from beneath him and sending him over the side.

A large hand grasped the back of her neck, fingers knotting in her fur, and twisted painfully. Slithe, who had come up behind her unnoticed, lifted her by the scruff, ignoring how she thrashed and clawed at him, and heaved her overboard. She slammed into the ground.

"Forget the cats!" Slithe shouted from the craft. "The Sword is all that matters."

Obviously reluctant to abandon their fights with Panthro and Tygra, Kaynar and Addicus nevertheless jumped aboard.

"You have your lives," Slithe hissed. "But they're of little good as long as I have this."

The Sword flashed in the sun, and he started to laugh.

Tygra and Felline opened fire a second too late. The hovercraft lifted, tilted, and turned, and their blasts bounced harmlessly off the underside. Tygra didn't give up, however. He ran after the retreating craft, still firing, until it put on a burst of speed and left him far behind.

Panthro offered a metal paw to Felline, and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

She shook her head in apology, pressing an arm to her bruised ribs, willing the pain to subside. She wouldn't be able to speak right then even if she had words to say.

"Don't beat yourself up," Panthro rumbled, his eyes on the horizon. "They've done enough of that for us."

She wheezed, trying not to laugh. It wasn't like there was anything funny about this situation, and if she started laughing, she might break down and cry.

"Your brother would be proud if he could see you now," Cheetara said, walking up behind Tygra.

"This isn't over yet," he angrily replied. "We're getting that Sword back."

The new Lord of the ThunderCats squared his broad shoulders and began to jog after the departed hovercraft, Cheetara by his side. He never checked to see if the others were following because he didn't need to. Panthro fell into a lope behind them, Felline stretching into a run to keep up with him, the twins and Snarf sprinting at her heels.

If the ground, the sky, and the backs of her friends smeared wetly together like paint, she tried not to mind it. She kept running into the blur, telling herself that they weren't leaving him behind, that they were heading for his legacy, while the tears dripped unchecked from her face.

..::~*~::..

The desert at night was full of moonlight, sand, and perpetual lightning.

Crawling on all fours, Felline scaled the dune and slipped between Panthro and Tygra, stretching out on her belly to peer over its wind-sculpted edge. To her surprise, they'd been much nearer the enemy stronghold than any of them, barring Panthro, had realized; it had taken little more than three hours to come this far. Still, she was tired. Blowing sand clogged her fur, got in her eyes and nose, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she burrowed into the dune, hoping to soak up some of its warmth. The lightning made her scalp tingle.

"Mumm-Ra's temple," Cheetara murmured from the far right. "It's even scarier than I thought."

Felline thought she understood what Cheetara meant. There was something in the air, apart from the perpetual lightning, that felt ominous and heavy, like a poisonous gas or deadly smoke. But it was only sand, gritty and billowing on the wind. The temple itself rose out of the dunes, contemptuously brushing off the desert's attempts to bury it. It was huge. It was black. It was a pyramid, centered between four tall, angled towers, around the tops of which the lightning gathered in dancing spheres. On the desert floor, hovercraft moved slowly through the storm, passing around the black silhouettes of lizards on patrol.

"I nearly died in that pit, thanks to Grune," Panthro rumbled. He looked over Felline's head. "Sure you want me to help us get in? Getting out was hard enough."

"I don't like it either, General, but we have to get the Sword of Omens back," Tygra said. Time had done nothing to dim his anger, which burned hot and clean. He seemed driven by the grief simmering below it.

Panthro didn't offer any further resistance. "There's an air shaft on the north side," he said instead. "Dangerous, but it's your call."

His mismatched eyes slid sideways. "King," he added.

The phrase, _Better late than never_, floated through Felline's mind, but she shooed it away. There was nothing "better" about this situation. Even if they had all finally learned to work as a team, it was too late. Lion-O would never reap the benefits. It was possible none of them would. This was a suicide mission, and they all knew it, but they had no other choice.

Tygra lowered Panthro's spyglass. "We need to take out the guards," he said.

Taking that as an order, Panthro nodded, stood, and jogged down the dune, letting the slope pull him into a run that would take the lizards by surprise.

Cheetara glanced over at Tygra, her eyes big and dark in the night. "You okay?"

"I always told him that I should be king," he murmured, anguished. "I never wanted it like this."

"The only thing we can do now is finish the job he started," she answered. She rose and followed Panthro down the dune.

Felline got to her feet, also, and sprinted after her, not wanting to see Tygra's tortured expression. He was the king now. She would follow him to the end, but she couldn't let herself get lost in his suffering as well as her own. Instead, she focused on the electricity in the air that made her fur crackle and snap with each stride. She kept a wary eye on the sky, also. The swirling black clouds were lit from within by the constant blue and purple lightning. Since the nexus of the storm was the apex of the pyramid, she doubted it was natural.

On the flat plain before the pyramid, hidden by the gusting sand, she drew the gunblade. She couldn't risk shooting the lizards, or giving them time to open fire, because the noise would bring reinforcements. Summoning Cheetara's coaching, she thought of nothing but strike, slash, block, parry, and counter, disarming lizards one by one. After a few hushed minutes, Panthro added the last couple of limp bodies to the dogpile, eliciting a drugged-sounding hiss and grunt from the incapacitated reptiles at the bottom.

"Nice work, General," Tygra said.

Felline folded the gunblade and returned it to its holster. She watched, curious in spite of herself, while Panthro walked up to the great, black wall and placed one paw, palm flat, against it.

Red light flared in a thin line, a perfect circle around his paw. The section of wall inside the circle sank inward, or maybe he pushed it in. At the contact, countless more red lines blazed across the black wall, streaming at angles, taking abrupt corners, crossing, intersecting, revealing a complex pattern in the darkness. Everybody froze as the lines extended into the desert sands under their feet, hinting at an even larger structure. In the center of the pattern, another section of wall sank inward, this one in the shape of a triangle and large enough to drive the original ThunderTank through. It then broke into three plates, which slid smoothly aside, allowing them entry.

It was darker inside, but not by much. Panthro peered around the corner, and then darted in, Felline and the others on his heels.

"So far so good," Panthro said, his voice echoing in the metallic corridor.

"My plan just may work after all," Tygra answered, sounding more cheerful than he had all night.

Of course, he'd spoken too soon. They reached the end of the corridor, which opened into a wider room, when red lights in the ceiling began blinking on and off in time to a klaxon's scream. A five-lizard patrol appeared out of another corridor, rifles in their hands.

"Whiskers," Tygra whispered.

They couldn't risk being seen so soon, so they hurried backward, into the corridor still open to the storm outside, and pressed themselves against the smooth wall.

"Now what, King?" Cheetara asked over the blaring noise.

"Just . . . just let me think," Tygra said. His white face was awash in red, darker orange over his forehead and the bridge of his nose. The strain, which had started to show before they'd escaped from Slithe, was clearly getting to him.

"Don't worry," WilyKit piped up. "I've got this."

She danced into the pentagonal room, tail and dagged skirt swishing. With her flupe at her lips and the lizards approaching on the quick-march, she began to play. It was a simple melody, but it teased at the corners of the brain. One by one, the lizards drooped – their eyelids, their heads, and their rifles.

As a group, Felline and the others rounded the corner.

"Way to go, Kit," Tygra praised her.

The little wildcat kept playing, prancing around the dozing lizards. She didn't look frightened at all, Felline noticed; this was familiar territory for her. Unhurried, WilyKit joined everyone else in another corridor and there, stopped playing. In thirty seconds, the alarm shut off, but they didn't stick around to see what the lizards made of the situation.

"We can't keep running around in the open like this," Tygra hissed in frustration. Felline felt like she was folding up, tighter and tighter, with each corner they took, each new direction they tried, and the pyramid presented them with hypnotizing uniformity. Cold metal walls, slippery metal floors, forty-five-degree angles, and dull red lights. And through it all, a strange smell. The air of the desert didn't mix well with the air of the pyramid. It occurred to Felline that they were breathing air that did not belong to Third Earth and she put out a paw to steady herself.

Then she shot a sharp glance at her paw. She'd touched not the solid metal paneling, but a grate, perhaps five feet by four. The funny smell was oozing out of it.

A ventilation shaft.

_Snyar_? Snarf asked, bringing the others to a halt. If not for him, they might not have known she'd stopped running, but she refused to think about what would have happened if they'd left her behind. Instead, she drew the gunblade and swung it open.

"Felline?" Kat asked, but she waved him back.

She struck, once, twice, and leaped out of the way. The metal grate clanged on the floor. Sheared-off screw heads bounced out of sight.

"Brilliant," Tygra approved, squeezing her shoulder as he climbed inside.

They tumbled in after him. Tygra and Panthro fitted the grate back over the hole, and Felline set the beam of her rifle low and steady in order to weld it back in place. They set off as a group in the cramped shaft. The shaft didn't run straight or horizontal. Slowly, they rose within the pyramid. Feeling lightheaded, Felline wondered if she'd fallen asleep. It was all so surreal, Lion-O dead, the alien air invading her body, while she crawled after Panthro in the dark.

"Where is it that we're going?" Panthro rumbled.

"To Mumm-Ra," Tygra said from up ahead.

"Then angle left."

After a few claustrophobic minutes, in which the shaft widened enough to let most of them stand, Kit asked, "What's that?"

"Yeah. I hear it, too," Kat said.

Felline canted her ears. She heard chanting. Dry lizard voices, low and throaty, hissing in rhythm. It was coming from another grate, this one the size of cargo bay doors. It wasn't nearly as secure, either, held in place by flimsy clamps at either end. Tygra dashed along it. He crouched on the far side, leaving room for the rest of them. The grate angled outward, and they stayed well back, unwilling to let the animals in the room below catch sight of them. Felline crouched next to WilyKit and pricked her ears forward.

It appeared to be some kind of ceremony. Lizards draped in hooded white robes stood along the outer edge of a raised dais, facing inward. Within a red circle, Kaynar, Slithe, and Addicus stood. In front of them, Mumm-Ra hunched in his tattered cloak, eyes glowing like coals in his gray face. He raised bandaged, skeletal arms. The chanting ceased, and he spoke.

"At long last, the king of the cats is dead, and the Eye of Thundera will be mine once again."

There it was. The Sword of Omens, floating over a triangular pedestal in the center of the dais.

"And this time," Mumm-Ra breathed, "no spell will keep me from the Stone, for within these walls, my powers are immeasurable."

On cue, the lizards resumed chanting, and Mumm-Ra joined in, speaking words that were nothing more than sinister-sounding gibberish to Felline, but they were obviously words of power. The Sword began to spin like the needle in a compass, around and around, and she rubbed her arms to keep the fur from rising; somehow, without it making a sound, she could tell that it was in distress.

"I can't see anything. What's going on?" WilyKat demanded in a half whisper.

"A thousand bad things, kid," Panthro growled.

Cheetara glanced at Tygra. "What d'you wanna do?"

"Drop in for a surprise attack," he answered matter-of-factly.

They all stared at him, but Panthro was the one who burst out with, "And land in the middle of trouble?"

"It's not a perfect plan, but we owe it to Lion-O to try," Tygra said pointedly. He stood up, kicked out the grate, and jumped. Whip lashing the air, he triumphantly called, "ThunderCats, ho!"

Felline closed her eyes, breathing deeply around the sudden prickling in her sinuses. She was scared. She was exhausted. She wasn't going to let her friends down. Drawing the gunblade, she leaped after Tygra and touched down on her toes, knees bending to absorb the impact.

"Keep them from the Sword!" the shriveled figure on the dais cried.

At once, the lizard-priests moved to intercept, but they were unarmed, clearly not warriors. Felline kicked one in the stomach, whisked around, and grabbed another by his oddly hot arm. Twisting down and then back up, she sent him somersaulting away, where he blundered into his fellows like a cannonball through a wooden fence. All around, the reptilian priests were falling to the swift ferocity of the cats.

"You were fools to come here," Mumm-Ra rasped, and the next thing she knew, Felline was engulfed by his dark sorcery. The purple lightning seized her like thousands of fiery pins. It was pain unimaginable, instantly unbearable, and it lasted for eons.

She wondered if she was dying. With the screams of her friends drilling into her ears, she silently pleaded for the pain to stop. Eventually and to her surprise, it did, leaving a buzzing black numbness crowding out her thoughts.

"No more delays! Take them to the cells," Mumm-Ra commanded, his words breaking against the blackness, waves against the sand. They were gritty around the edges, hard to hold, and she fought against them, her cheek pressed into the floor. "I'll deal with them once I destroy the Sword."

More lizards lifted her onto their round shoulders. The floor beneath her cheek tilted and fell away, taking her stomach with it.

Faintly, from somewhere far away, she heard WilyKit murmur, "Bought him some time."

"Bought who some time?" WilyKat groggily replied. The sound of his voice was sad, and it grew fainter; she was being carried away. "There's no one coming to save us."

With this knowledge piercing her already battered heart, Felline surrendered to unconsciousness.

* * *

_**A/N:** Argh, these scenes keep breaking off in weird places! I'm squishing two episodes into one chapter, and cutting out half of them, but that means the story flow is all stilted. Compensating by putting up extra-long ones. :3 I hope that's a fair trade. Also, I deeply regret how closely I'm transcribing the episodes, but it has to be done. Please forgive me!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Darwin **(Thank you, chica!), **The Night Whisperer **(How's this? :3), **Heart of the Demons **(Thank you! Check back around Friday, okay? lol), **Mooncloudpanther **(Gosh. Thank you so much! *blush*), **KelseyAlicia **(Indeed!), **CaptainCommanderLucy **(Thank you!), **Momochan77 **(I am so happy you liked it! I like angst. I haven't been writing near enough of it lately, lol), and **Blacktiger93** (I don't know for sure! I'd like him to, but it also seems like a super-awkward thing to talk about - by the way, I just spent all night hanging out with someone who looks like you, but isn't you. hahaha!). Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! Please keep them coming!_

_Have a wonderful day, my darlings,_

_Anne_

_P.S. I will be uploading a new Bonus Theater very soon, before publishing the next CCv2 update. It isn't a giftfic this time, but an extra scene of my own that can't be told within the events of this chapter. It should be read right after this and before the next update, if read at all. :3_


	8. Judgment Day, part five

The only light came from a blue force field. None of them dared touch it, wary of the raw, white electricity that rippled through it in crinkled ropes.

"If Mumm-Ra gets the Eye of Thundera, we won't be able to stop him," Cheetara said. Her voice echoed slightly in the unfurnished cell.

"I don't know what to do, Cheetara," Tygra said aggressively. "I questioned Lion-O's decisions, but in the end, they always worked out. Suddenly I'm in charge, and we end up in here."

"Will you all stop worrying?" Kit huffed. Standing in front of the force field, she put her paws on her hips, tail swishing in emphasis. "Lion-O will be here soon and he'll find a way to get the Sword back."

"Kit," Cheetara said sadly. "Lion-O is . . ."

She couldn't finish. WilyKit glared at her.

"He'll be here, Cheetara," the kitten insisted. "He'll be here! You believe in him, don't you, Felline?"

Taken aback, Felline stared at her. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. Panthro cast her a sharp glance, as if he'd realized for the first time that she hadn't spoken in a while, and still she couldn't give Kit the answer she wanted. Betrayal filled WilyKit's expression and she turned away.

"Kit," Tygra tried next.

"He'll _be_ here!" she said angrily, tears in her voice. She crossed her arms, turning her back on them all.

Felline picked a corner of their cell, sat on the floor, and pulled her legs into her chest. She wrapped her tail and her arms around them, burying her face in her knees. Her tears soaked through her pants.

"Don't do this again," Panthro said above her head. When she didn't respond, he let out a gusty sigh. Then, so low that no one else would hear him, he rumbled, "You cared that much for him, huh? Well, that's somethin' you gotta work out on your own."

He sat cross-legged next to her but didn't try to engage her again. If the whirlpool inside her hadn't stolen most of her feelings, his astuteness might have embarrassed her, but as it was, she didn't even feel a ripple in response. The well of grief was too deep. She pressed her knees into her eyes and held herself tighter. Nothing mattered anymore. Once Mumm-Ra got what he wanted, she would be executed, along with everyone else. The cats of Third Earth would cease to exist.

Regret required too much energy.

Time passed. How much, nobody knew. The twins and Snarf huddled next to Panthro, while Cheetara and Tygra leaned against the wall next to Felline. There was nothing to do, nothing to say.

Until Tygra said, in a kind of strangled wonder, "It can't be."

Uninterested, Felline looked up. The force field was disappearing, folding up and receding like a glowing blue wave. And there, standing on the catwalk outside of it, was –

"Lion-O?" WilyKat cried.

_Nyaa_! Snarf chirped happily.

"I told you he would come!" Kit shrieked, shattering the stillness irrevocably. She burst from the cell, running full tilt into Lion-O's open arms, closely followed by her brother. They buried their faces in his stomach, laughing and crying at the same time.

"I knew it! I knew it!" WilyKit sobbed over and over.

How _did you know_? Felline wondered, dumfounded. This was real. Not a hallucination. Lion-O was really there.

Lion-O rested his paw on the back of WilyKit's head while Snarf twined ecstatically around his ankles. "If it wasn't for your markers, I never would have made it," he told her.

_Markers_? Felline thought, and then she remembered: Kit's charcoal drawing on the cliff road. She must have been leaving some sort of sign for Lion-O to follow. Admiration for the kitten warmed Felline, chasing away the cold emptiness.

Panthro and the others walked toward freedom, toward Lion-O, but Felline, who had fallen onto her paws and knees when she tried to get up, stayed where she was, feeling as if the entire ocean had crashed into her. Hungrily, she stared at him, tracing every well-known feature with her eyes, the way the honey-gold markings curved along his cheekbones, and the exact color of his mane. Waves of emotion pushed and pulled at her, grief and joy, confusion and hysteria. He was alive. It wasn't too late.

"It's good to see ya again, kid," Panthro said.

"How . . . How are you_ . . . _?" Cheetara asked, for once at a complete loss for words.

"Long story, but we don't have much time," Lion-O responded. "We have to get the Sword back."

"It's a suicide mission," Panthro said at once.

"You're tellin' me," Lion-O said under his breath, but then he grinned. "I'd understand if you don't wanna follow me in there."

"We'd follow you anywhere," Tygra immediately said, and then added, "Your Majesty."

Snarf frisked around the cell, making the twins laugh. The change was wholesale, the despair falling away like winter cloaks in spring. Lion-O stepped back so that the others could head down the catwalk, smiling at each of them as they passed, and then he looked for her.

Felline scrambled to her feet. She couldn't help herself; when she got close enough, she timidly reached out and touched her fingertips to his chest. Warm, and solid. He was _real_.

Snapping her out of her daze, Lion-O wrapped his fingers around hers. His eyes, the most beautiful, complicated shade of blue, sought out hers. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he said in a low voice, meant only for her.

_Huh_? Felline stared at him. She opened her mouth and tried to ask what he meant, because she didn't remember saying anything like that. Kit was the one who had been waiting for him to come back. Shamefully, Felline hadn't believed in either of them. He grinned, and with a tug of her paw, he pulled her down the catwalk at a run.

They separated on the way back to the temple-like room. Lion-O seemed to know the way, his feet padding against the metal floors. Thankfully, security was so lax they didn't meet any lizards until they reached the tall doors that led to Mumm-Ra. A group of six reptiles stood guard in front of them.

"Felline," Lion-O said in a harsh whisper. "Are we too late?"

She looked up at him, her tail curling and uncurling. How would she know that? She couldn't possibly – but her mind was already on the significance of the closed doors, the lizards blocking the way.

"Mumm-Ra can't have succeeded in removing the Eye from the Sword," she said, and then flushed when she realized how easily the words had come, how seven pairs of eyes were fixed on her in complete confidence. "If he had, he would have taken his armies to conquer the rest of Third Earth by now. He believes you dead and the rest of us incapacitated. We still have time."

He nodded at her, and then turned to Panthro.

"General," he said forcefully. "The doors, please."

Panthro grinned down at him. He dug in a pocket and came up with one of the lizards' own wall bombs. "With pleasure, my king," he rumbled.

It was pure incompetence that the bomb hadn't been taken from him. Felline eyed it, wondering if something in the cell had rendered it useless, and if that was why it hadn't been. At any rate, it was going to come in handy now. Extending an arm high above the reptiles, Panthro placed and activated the bomb. He and the others crouched around the corner, listening hard. It beeped as it counted the seconds.

. . . _three_ . . . _two_ . . . _one_ . . .

It exploded. The shrapnel and collapsing doors took care of the guards outside for them, and Lion-O led the charge past the smoke and embers into Mumm-Ra's chamber.

"ThunderCats, _ho_!"

"No!" Mumm-Ra howled from atop the dais, before Felline could see him. "They must not break the circle!"

Which was exactly what they should do, then. Ears flat to her hair, she drew the gunblade and began firing, picking off the lizard priests one by one until the fighting grew too thick in front of her and she had to stop or else risk shooting one of her friends. She switched the rifle for the sword and dove in, helping to clear a path for Lion-O, who had no weapon. She felt very small, darting around her king to stop any lizards from getting to him, but he reached the dais in safety and mounted the steps. She stood guard at the bottom, tail lashing her legs, fangs bared, sword extended.

"Mumm-Ra!" he shouted, even though he was only a few steps away from the shriveled, noisome figure, his voice rasping around a roar. "You have something of mine."

"And without it, you will never defeat me," Mumm-Ra said coyly. Felline could picture his wrinkled, dirty-scab-colored smirk and shivered in disgust.

Lion-O growled, feline anger reverberating around the hollow room. Then the grumble of thunder drowned it out.

"Ancient Spirits of Evil," Mumm-Ra called, his voice growing larger. "Transform this decayed form into Mumm-Ra, the Ever-Living!"

His altered roar was much more impressive than Lion-O's, and the wind of magic blew Felline onto her knees. Without having to look, she knew exactly what kind of monster Lion-O was facing now. Two lizards jumped her before she could straighten, and she snarled wordlessly at one as she hooked her shoulder into his middle and heaved him away. A blast of purple lightning caught the second in her peripheral vision.

She stared, horrified, at his wide-open mouth, the electricity licking around his teeth. When he went limp, she ran. Bolts of lightning continually struck the floor around her as Lion-O went leaping away. Felline battled her way to Panthro's side, trying to distance herself from Mumm-Ra's attacks. Back to back, she and the general helped clear the room of the remaining priests and soldiers.

"You may have the Sword of Omens, but I still have the Spirit Stone," Lion-O called from the other side of the room, lost in the gloom. "And I am King of the ThunderCats!"

Panthro lashed out with his nunchaku, catching a lizard in the kneecaps. Felline kicked the reptile on the way down, knocking out both his breath and his consciousness. She and Panthro glanced up at the flare of pink and purple light, pupils slamming into slits against the brightness so fast it hurt. They watched Mumm-Ra send more lightning at Lion-O, and Lion-O throw up the shielded Gauntlet. He sprinted around the room, deflecting the blasts, keeping the ancient sorcerer's attention focused on him. He jumped. He swerved.

He dived.

"Got it!" Panthro hissed when Lion-O soared right past Mumm-Ra's bulk and closed both paws around the Sword's hilt. He pulled it off the pedestal with him and landed on his shoulder, rolling upright in an instant.

"No!" Mumm-Ra bellowed like an enraged bull elephant. He charged.

The Eye awoke with a growl. The red beam of light stopped the winged monster in his tracks. After a few moments of Mumm-Ra's screams, Lion-O ceased his beam attack and leveled the singing blade at his adversary.

For two seconds, they glared at each other. Then Mumm-Ra, foul-smelling smoke rising from his body, turned and ran, unraveling bandages flying out behind him, and the klaxon started up again. Ignoring it, Lion-O pursued his foe, yelling at the top of his lungs. Mumm-Ra jumped into the hole that had opened in the center of the dais.

Panthro grabbed the lion's shoulder before he could follow.

"Forget him, Lion-O," he said. "We gotta get outta here."

"They're coming!" Felline chimed in. The chirps of approaching laser blasts were growing louder, illuminating the horde of armed lizards flooding the room. "You have the Sword. Let's go before they surround us."

His expression fierce, Lion-O obeyed without hesitation. With lasers pulverizing the floor at their heels, they chased the other ThunderCats up a wide staircase, heading for the desert and their freedom. Incredibly, nothing and no one pursued them once they escaped the pyramid's confines. They stood together at the crest of a dune, well outside the radius of the angry purple storm swirling around it. Felline breathed deep of the fresh air.

They'd done it.

"Okay, Lion-O," Cheetara said once they'd all caught their breaths. "I think it's time you told us what happened to you."

They waited, staring at his back. Finally, he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, shoulders slumping, "but I have to leave."

"Leave?" WilyKit repeated blankly. "Why?"

The Spirit Stone began to glow softly, as if answering for him. Surprised, they all gazed at it.

"Because he has paid the ultimate price," said an echoing, elderly voice behind them.

Felline whirled around. There, glowing pale blue against the dark blue sky and the wisps of cloud still black with night, the head and shoulders of an old, bearded jaguar loomed. The larger-than-life apparition held a curled staff in one paw, and a spike-topped helm covered his mane. His eyes were gentle above cheeks sagging with age, but his mouth was stern in the shadow of a hooked nose and impressive white mustache.

Jaga.

No one said anything, not in the presence of sorcery, spirits, and the cat who had been mentor to both a prince and a cleric. Far to the east, a line of molten white light spilled across the dunes, lightening the sky, shining through the old cleric's image.

"Sunrise," Lion-O whispered. "I guess it's time."

"Time to use what you've learned to lead your people to victory as the reborn King of the ThunderCats," Jaga agreed in his otherworldly voice.

Felline looked from Lion-O's dawning glee to Jaga's serenity, thoroughly confused, but she didn't dare interrupt.

"I can _stay_?" Lion-O spluttered. "H-how? Th-the trials!"

"The trials were designed to test more than just your skill. They were designed to test your heart." Jaga's voice matched his eyes, kind and proud. "When you made the ultimate sacrifice to save your friends, you showed what it means to truly be a king."

On the last word, he faded from the sky, leaving room for the blinding sun to begin burning off the last remnants of cloud.

"What trials?" WilyKit instantly wanted to know. Her shadow danced in front of her, thin and impossibly tall, as she bounded up to Lion-O.

"Yeah, what trials?" WilyKat put in, joining her.

_Snyaa_, Snarf added.

"What did he mean, ultimate sacrifice?" Cheetara demanded.

"Where have you been?" Panthro growled at the same time.

"What was he talking about?" Tygra asked, his words overlapping theirs.

"You weren't planning to stay?" Felline murmured under all of them.

They converged on him, their questions pouring out like rice from a torn sack, and Lion-O threw up his paws to beg for quiet. "I guess I'll start at the beginning," he said with a sheepish grin. "When I died."

..::~*~::..

Those three words, _When I died_, unlocked a treasure trove of hilarity previously unknown to the twins. Every chance they got, they started viciously laying into Lion-O with jokes about zombies. Even after four whole days, they hadn't let up.

"Whoa! Look out, Kit, he's eating again," WilyKat said in an audible whisper.

Felline glanced up from her spot on the ground. The kittens were hanging from the ThunderTank above and behind Lion-O, wearing identical Cheshire grins in the flickering firelight. WilyKit leaned further down, little paws splayed against the tank's side, tail curling over her head.

"What's he eating?" she asked in as deep a voice as she could muster, eyes wickedly narrowed. "_Brains_?"

They snickered in unison.

"Sure am," Lion-O said unconcernedly, taking a bite of what was really Cheetara's latest attempt at dried meat. "It's delicious."

"Better watch out, Kit! He'll be after your brain next," Kat cried. "He'll come after you while you sleep and turn you into the _walking dead_."

"Ooo, I'm scared!" Kit sang, and they burst out laughing.

"Nah," Lion-O said, eyes closed, mouth full. The meat required a lot of chewing, which helped take their minds off how little there was. "Neither of you have enough brains to bother."

Everyone except the twins grinned into their dinner.

"Hey!" WilyKat said indignantly. He dropped down and marched up to Lion-O, fists on his hips, tail rigid. "I dare you to say that again."

Lion-O pounced. A lot of dirt got kicked up when he grabbed WilyKat and put him in a headlock, and WilyKit launched herself at him to save her brother. Felline, Tygra, Cheetara, and Panthro merely covered their meager meals and kept eating while Lion-O and the kittens tumbled around, yelling and laughing, until Kat managed to wriggle free.

"Gotta be faster than that," Lion-O taunted.

"Now I have dead cat cooties! Thanks a lot!" WilyKat yelled from a safe distance. Holding paws, he and Kit dashed away, probably to plan their next prank. Kit kept glancing back at Lion-O anxiously.

Although Lion-O was smiling, he caught Felline's eye, and she saw the look of desperation hiding there.

"I'll catch up with you later," she said softly to Cheetara.

"Sure," Cheetara warmly replied, and Felline got up, following Lion-O into the dark.

Once out of the firelight, the moons' triple glow made the red leaves on the trees look frosted. The nights were getting colder. Tygra thought that _up_ might mean _north_, so north they were going, toward an imposing, snowcapped mountain range. Lion-O crossed his arms and leaned against the Tank, his eyes on the sky.

"You okay?" Felline asked.

"Yeah, fine," he said with a sigh. "I'm just questioning my existence. Are we doing the right thing? Going the right way? Or am I leading us into a trap? Is all of this hopeless?" His eyes slipped closed, so that he looked like he was sleeping. When he spoke, the moonlight flashed against his fangs. "You'll tell me when you think I'm wrong, won't you?"

It sounded like a plea. Shyly, Felline looked at the ground. "Of course I will. If that's what you want."

He'd told them about his trials, about meeting spirits that had taken their faces and forms and put him through what seemed like impossible tests. It was strange to think that a spirit had mimicked her so perfectly, stranger that he had memories of her that she did not. It almost felt like a violation.

Who were these spirits, anyway? Were they watching their every move from the spirit realm? It was creepy. She rubbed her arms, trying to flatten the fur and regain some warmth.

Mumm-Ra called upon the Ancient Spirits of Evil to give him more power. Maybe these were the Ancient Spirits of Good. She sighed. These Ancient Spirits, good or evil, sounded as much like a fairy tale as Kit and Kat's zombies. Until they knew for sure, they would have to be very careful from there on out.

"Thanks," he said, bringing her out of her thoughts. His foot crunched through gravel when he stepped closer to her, close enough to touch.

Felline raised her head and found him looking intently down at her, his expression a mixture of curious and resigned. She'd caught him doing that a lot lately, staring at her as if he'd never seen her before, both as though she was worth a second look and as if she was a problem he'd rather not deal with. Something was different tonight, though, and she stared back at him as if entranced. The moment stretched out, pooling around them like the moonlight.

She couldn't imagine what he'd gone through that night, waking up at the bottom of the river, buried under rock. Running for hours, alone, to find them. To save them. Burdened by the knowledge that when the sun rose, he would have to die again, but never giving up.

A wild thought darted through her head like a minnow through murky water. _Kiss him_.

Oh, how she wanted to. He was so close that all it would take was rising up on her toes as high as she could and she'd be able to put her lips to his. It seemed like the thing to do with the way he was looking at her. As if he saw her as beautiful, and could feel the attraction simmering under her skin. Didn't he seek her out more often now, choose to be alone with her? What moment could be more perfect? No one would have to know. She could do it.

She shifted her weight, felt her toes press into the dirt . . . and then she hesitated.

She couldn't do it. Lion-O didn't feel that way about her. Even now, she was sure, his mind was with Cheetara. She couldn't do it. But neither could she look away.

No matter how fiercely she had tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew right then that she loved him. All of him. Immature, headstrong, and selfish. Brave, loyal, and bearing a strength of will that could rebuild Third Earth.

Panthro's words came back to haunt her. _You cared that much for him, huh_?

Yes. By Thundera, _yes_. There was no going back for her.

"Felline," he started, his voice low and troubled. "I –"

Then he sighed. Lifted his head. Tried to smile at her, but it was wan and sad. Confused. "We should get some rest."

"Okay," she agreed, barely above a whisper. She watched him go, too shaken to follow, her paws pressed to her chest. Right above the tiny warmth of hope blooming in her heart.

* * *

_**A/N:** DAMN YOU, FFNET! Don't log me out without letting me save a file! Now I have to write this all over again, UGH._

_*ahem*_

_Hello, hello, Dear Readers! I'm sure you noticed the title change - I never did like "Cat's Cradle," but I hope the new one isn't too confusing. Here is an extra-long chapter for all of you lovelies who haven't yet given up on me. :3 Also, did you remember to check out the Bonus Theater? X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Mooncloudpanther **(Oh, good. Thank you!), **Darwin **(Oh, good. I was hoping I conveyed that properly. Thank you!), **Heart of the Demons **(I will, and thank you!), **The Night Whisperer **(LOL, I like it. Thank you! X3), **KelseyAlicia **(I am! Thanks for the review!), **CaptainCommanderLucy **(Here you go! :3), **Momochan77 **(HEE! I'm so happy you approved! Thanks!), **Blacktiger93** (Hee, here you go! Just for you! X3), **cherry blossoms** (Welcome! Thank you so much for leaving a review, and here you go!), and **Ashleyjenko** (Welcome! Thank you so much!). Also, I absolutely must thank all of you who have recently faved or followed my stories. You're the best! Yes, you!_

_Until next time,_

_Anne_


	9. Going Native, part one

Morning dawned bright, clear, and cold. The mountain welcomed Felline, as did the blue sky, the blue shadows, the black chunks of rock piercing the folds of pristine, windswept snow. The landscape was untouched except for the trail of footprints in her wake. At the top of a ridge, she looked up, face shaded by the deep blue hood of her new cloak, and scanned the descent, dazzled by the glint of sunlight on powder.

The beauty made her want to throw out her arms and embrace the mountain. Her thick fur would have kept her warm with or without the long, fleece-lined cloak, as did the effort of blazing a trail; this was a snow leopard's natural habitat, after all. She loved the frosty air, the muted scents, the stillness, the silence –

"So much for scouting ahead to find a shortcut," Lion-O groused, shattering the peace. "We're lost."

"I don't get lost," Tygra said loudly. "There's a pass through these mountains and I'm going to find it."

Felline sighed and turned around. The brothers were some way behind her, their twin trails much deeper than hers. Both looked incredibly unhappy, chilled and tired. Their breath hung in the air like puffs of cloud. She politely waited while Tygra resumed trudging upward.

She supposed she should have warned him when Lion-O bent down and scooped up a pawful of snow. The snowball splattered him right in the back of his orange head. Angrily, he turned to confront his attacker.

"You never admit when you're wrong," Lion-O said with a grin, tossing a second snowball and catching it.

By contrast, Tygra frowned, his voice going deadly quiet. "And you never act your age."

He brushed off the snow and turned to Felline, who wasn't fast enough to hide her smile and bit her lips apologetically. He didn't say anything, however, and kept walking with all the dignity of a Thunderian prince in spite of the freezing wet sure to be trickling down his neck and under his collar.

Lion-O watched him go for about three steps, looked at Felline with eyes as dark a blue as their cloaks, and let fly with the second snowball. It coated the back of Tygra's head.

Fists clenched, Tygra growled through his teeth, whipped around, and shouted, "_Lion-O_!"

His voice echoed around the small dip between the massive peaks through which they'd spent the last hour toiling in order to reach the ridge – _Lion-O_! _Lion-O_! _Lion-O_!

The mountain answered with a discontented grumble. In an explosion of ice crystals, one of the peaks relinquished its hold on its hood of snow. The snow poured down the slope in great blocks, pulling more with it, quaking and rumbling, breaking apart until it resembled white water rapids, picking up speed toward the three cats standing below it, until –

"_Avalanche_!" the brothers cried together.

Felline was already running. She dropped to all fours to give herself an extra boost on top of the snow, spreading her weight as far as she could, and streaked for an outcrop of rock she'd seen on the way up. She swarmed over the lip and dove for the small depression behind it. Ten nauseating seconds later, during which the cloud of snow started to block the sun, Lion-O and Tygra slid down on top of her, all of them yelling.

But none of them were as loud as the raging avalanche, which hit the outcrop and spewed huge plumes of snow up and to the sides as it continued down the mountain. In the dark, rough paws grabbed Felline and hefted her higher. Snow was pouring into their shelter, deflected by the rock but eddying backward in a swirl of smothering death.

Fortunately, like an earthquake, it didn't last long. Felline clung to the rock, shaking, while the sky gradually lightened again and her heartbeat slowed to normal. Lion-O leaned back, letting her down, his face as stunned as a newborn cub's when it opens its eyes for the first time. Tygra, meanwhile, was digging himself out of waist-deep snow. They were all caked in it.

"What in Thundera is wrong with you two?" Felline snarled, not daring to shout although she dearly wanted to. She frantically pawed at her ears, afraid the snow would melt and get inside, which would give her a nasty earache. "We've been out here one day. One day! You almost got us killed."

Both had the grace to look ashamed. "If Lion-O would grow up –"

"If you would just admit you're wrong –"

"Do you realize we just lost an hour because of you two? Can't you stop fighting for one day?" She struggled toward Tygra over the snow, which was deep enough that it put her at his eye level.

Tygra's pride had suffered a blow and he wasn't going to let it slide. "I notice you didn't do anything to stop him," he said.

"No, but I saved our lives," she snapped. "You brought me because I know this kind of environment, since my father grew up in the high mountains and he taught me how to survive. I can get us safely through. You're here because you have the best sense of direction. You –" She rounded on Lion-O, who was staring at them with his mouth slightly open. "I don't even know why you came."

His mouth shut with a snap. He looked highly affronted. "It was my idea!"

"Unless you two can stop bickering like a pair of old chipmunks, we're going back to where we left the others with the tank," she huffed, not sorry in the slightest. It was her right to tell them off, since she'd been appointed as a guide and their wellbeing, not their stupidity, was her responsibility. "I'm not dying out here."

"We're safe now," Tygra said impatiently. "That's all that matters."

"Is it?" Still angry, she turned to survey the damage. "Anything could set off another avalanche now. Even bears know better than to test a fall area. Just stepping out there could bring it all down on top of us – _ugh_. This is hopeless."

"Still think we're gonna find that shortcut?" Lion-O demanded of his brother.

Tygra rolled his eyes heavenward, but then, inexplicably, his face cleared like the sky after a storm. "We found _something_," he said. "Look!"

All three of them gazed at the mountain, their eyes traveling up its dazzlingly white slopes. There, high in its exposed face, a dark, ice-limned cave beckoned. It looked like a black eye against the white snow, a hole into pure night. In spite of the possibility of wasting what was left of the afternoon, they agreed to check it out.

It wasn't much more welcoming up close. Instead of looking like an eye, it yawned before them like a monster's maw, icicles hanging overhead like fangs. It appeared deserted. Tygra ran up to it first, put a shoulder to the edge, and peered inside. Crouched double, Lion-O joined him. They stayed there for several minutes, as still as statues, before waving her forward.

Felline crept up to Lion-O's side, gazing around in interest. This was no natural cave. A long, straight, rough-hewed tunnel descended before them, snow piled up in frozen drifts at the edges. For the most part, it was large, wide and tall enough for the ThunderTank, but it narrowed to the size of a doorway in places. Further in, old gray stalactites replaced the icicles, while smooth stone cobbles offered them better footing. At the bottom, they were met with what looked like a communal fire pit, dead and iced over.

Felline's ear flicked. She reached out, pinched a fold of Lion-O's cloak between her fingers, and waited until it went taut. He hesitated at the gentle tug, but she didn't speak. They could all hear it, now.

Footsteps, padding over stone. From behind.

Her friends stopped. Half-drew their weapons. She did the same, staring warily back over her shoulder as hooded figures approached, blocking off their exit. Her ear flicked again, and she drew a surprised breath through her teeth. Footsteps ahead, too.

Such skill in stealth, to have escaped her notice until they were already upon her! Only Tygra had a hope of doing the same.

"Welcome," said a male voice, laced with amusement.

Felline counted. Five of them all told. They walked on two feet like cats, but their heavy, fur-lined cloaks hid all but their paws, so it was impossible to tell what or who they were. Lion-O made his decision in a heartbeat. He returned the Sword to the Gauntlet straightened into a non-threatening posture.

"Hello," he said in the friendliest voice possible, which made him sound years younger than seventeen. He spread his paws wide to show he wasn't armed. "M-my brother, our friend, and I mean no harm. We're lost and –"

"We are not lost," his brother interjected, pushing him back.

"Not the time, Tygra," Lion-O growled behind his paw, but in the cave, sound carried.

Immediately, the hooded figures began muttering to one another. Felline didn't take her eyes off them, her curiosity spiraling higher with each passing second.

A tall, thin figure stepped forward. "Your name," he said, pausing before he finished as if completely stunned, "is Tygra?"

He wasn't the only one taken aback. Wide-eyed, Felline glanced up when Tygra removed his hood, exposing his stripes to the weak light. "You ask as if you know me," he said wonderingly.

The figure reached up with white paws. He removed his hood. The thin, long face of a cat greeted them; the black-banded, fire-red and white mane of a tiger shocked them. His features were sharp and chiseled, from his tilted eyes to his pointed, black and white beard. The tips of his middle-parted mane curled upward, as did his black eyebrows. "I am Caspin, of the Tiger Clan," he said. While the other figures lowered their hoods, revealing orange, black, and white faces, he continued speaking. "We have long waited for this day, Tygra. Welcome home."

The tiger clan! Such a thing still existed? Moreover, what did he mean by _welcome home_? Felline longed to speak, but she didn't quite dare. They were toms, all of them, though none as young as Tygra. She assumed they were a hunting party, or perhaps a patrol. Who knew what a hungry snowmeow might find appetizing on this lonely mountaintop. She shivered inadvertently. The cave was much colder than the sun-drenched ridge outside. She tore her longing gaze from the circle of daylight and returned it to the smiling tigers.

Unlike Tygra, these toms had blue eyes. Caspin blinked his. "Your father will be eager to see you," he added.

_Tygra's_ father? _How is this possible_? Felline wondered, staring at him. Meekly, she followed along behind her king and prince, gazing around in unfettered wonder. The deeper they went, the warmer it grew, so that even the stone, lit by firelight and torches, shifted to earthier tones. An odor of neglect hung in the moist air, but as she recalled, Jorma's shop had smelled much the same way. Perhaps that was just the nature of caves.

A great chattering rose like a flock of startled birds as they passed through what looked like communal living quarters. Kittens and young toms caught sight of them first, and soon, several tigresses kindly relieved them of their wet cloaks. They all stared hungrily at Tygra. Lion-O and Felline received their share of feline curiosity as well, although the tigers merely smiled whenever they happened to catch their eyes. Lion-O put an arm around her shoulders to keep her close as if afraid to lose her in the crowd, but his attention was focused on his brother.

Caspin led them along a suspended bridge of rock to a set of metal doors with curved horns for handles. He pushed them apart, flinging them wide.

"Look who it is, Lord Javan!"

The doors opened to a long room, lined with polished pillars that looked to be made of whole tree trunks – _How had that been accomplished_? Felline wondered in amazement We're thousands of feet above timberline! – with wooden cabinets placed between them and the whitening pelt of a snowmeow hanging from the far wall. Various blades adorned the side walls. A rectangular fire pit blazed between two fur-draped logs, upon which sat seven tigers, their heads turned to the side, away from the door, toward a gorgeously carved throne.

Felline stood with Lion-O near the entrance, her tired feet sinking luxuriously into a second pelt, as Tygra followed Caspin's lead right up to the stones that bordered the fire pit. The flames crackled, the only sound in the room. The tiger on the throne raised his head.

He looked very much like Tygra might in a couple of decades, although his brows were heavier, his nose more broad, his stripes bolder. It may have been the layers of clothing designed to ward off the chill of neverending winter, but he was an impressive cat. Tall and muscled, though lean, like his son. A frothy white beard fell onto his chest, and his stare could melt ice. Instead of Tygra's brown, which Felline had expected, his wide-set eyes were the distant blue of snow-cast shadows.

* * *

_**A/N:** Ah, so much decision to make! I've decided to include "Native Son" even though, like the Petalar episode, and the elephant one, Felline has zip to contribute. In fact, I fear that her presence might actually detract from the brother-bonding that takes place - I'm going to be REAL careful about that, let me tell you. But if you'll bear with me, there is a reason I've dived into this episode._

_I also have a confession to make! I stole this chapter title from WAR-Operative. X3 She's the one who suggested playing with the original episode titles and gave this one as a specific example and I love it!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Heart of the Demons**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Darwin**, **Momochan77**, **KelseyAlicia**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Red**, and **Ashleyjenko**. You guys are the absolute best. :3 Thank you so much for your wonderful words of encouragement and praise. You motivate me like nothing else!_

_Forever yours,_

_Anne_


	10. Going Native, part two

Javan's expression went from sternly weary to astonished faster than a blink. "Tygra," he said, his voice nearly not making it the length of the chamber, "is that you?"

"I can't believe it," Tygra said, equally soft. "All this time I thought I was alone, and here you are!"

"It's quite a surprise to see you," Javan said. Surprised he certainly sounded, but not pleased, and he looked away and closed his eyes as if angry. Felline felt the rebuff as cruelly as if it had been Snow, come back from the dead, sitting there to reject her.

Hurt flashed across Tygra's face, and he lowered his own eyes to the ground. Neither Lion-O nor Felline, whose heart was sinking on her friend's behalf, could think of anything to say. The seven seated tigers said nothing.

In the kingdom of Thundera, everyone knew that Tygra was not of the royal line, but it was never mentioned. Claudus had two sons. That was a fact. The people had loved Tygra enough that many had believed he should be the next king in spite of his questionable parentage. Since she had met the princes, she had ceased to see them as _lion_ and _tiger_ and simply thought of them as Lion-O and Tygra, a pair of toms constantly at loggerheads, yes, but brothers all the same. Meeting Lord Javan was something of a slap in the face.

"Forgive your father," Caspin said suddenly, as if trying to repair the damage. "Your return is nothing short of miraculous."

Felline, who was following the conversation with her eyes, saw Lion-O look up at Tygra for a moment, but when his brother didn't give him any clues, he decided to open negotiations and spoke to Javan. "We always suspected Tygra had to come from a lost clan, but where did you come from?"

Felline raised her eyebrows. That wasn't the question she had been expecting, but it was an excellent one nonetheless. Javan answered it, his voice hovering on the edge of grief.

"In ancient times, the Tiger Clan was the pride of Mumm-Ra's elite fighting force," he told them baldly. Not questioning their knowledge of Mumm-Ra, or the cats' true origins. Assuming that the ancient past was as real and important to them as it apparently was to him and his people. It wasn't, not until recently, but correcting him now would only shut down negotiations before they started. "During the Great Mutiny we stayed loyal, and because of it the tigers were treated as outcasts by the other cat clans."

At that, Lion-O also transferred his gaze to the floor, shamed on his ancestors' behalf.

"Our people settled in these mountains," Javan went on without the slightest change in tone. "Even under such harsh conditions, we prospered for generations, until –"

"Enough of our banal history," Caspin interrupted with an embarrassed laugh, making Felline jump, for he'd said it directly in her ear. He straightened, smiling coyly, a direct contrast to Javan. "We wanna hear about you, Tygra. Tell us how you became a prince among lions."

Far from appearing flattered, Tygra answered quietly. "It wasn't until I was older that I was told the story of my arrival."

Lion-O had resorted to listening with his eyes, like Felline, and did not return Caspin's smile, as sober as his brother. It was really awkward standing there, she decided, complete outsiders in not only a hidden tiger conclave, but smack dab in the middle of private family affairs.

Tygra's story began before Felline had been born. Queen Leona had waited years for a cub of her own, for an heir to give to King Claudus. Talk had circulated around the kingdom about the queen possibly being barren. Apparently, it had been quite the scandal, but not as big of one as the tiger cub that had descended from the sky in a basket hanging from a crude balloon with nothing but a name scrawled on a scrap of paper tucked in his blankets. The queen had claimed the cub as her own, and Claudus, whether out of the goodness of his heart or the love he bore for her, agreed to name him heir to the throne.

From the way he spoke of her, Tygra had adored his mother. According to him, Leona had been a breathtakingly beautiful lioness, and the most gentle of souls. He spent three happy years as the center of their family. Until Lion-O was born.

"That night, I lost the two things I cherished most," Tygra said dully. "My mother, and my kingdom."

That explained so much. Felline wondered how much of this story Lion-O already knew. From the look on his face, she was guessing all of it. She didn't remember the birth of the true heir, since she and Lepra had been a year and some months old at the time. But talk could outlive a queen; she remembered the women of the village bringing up Leona's tragic childbirth death every now and then, when news reached Foret of an accomplishment of one or the other of her sons.

Caspin approached Tygra, passing in front of both Felline and Lion-O, to put a consoling paw on the prince's shoulder.

"But today," he said, with the flair of a tom unwrapping a splendid present, "you become heir of a land of your own."

Tygra seized on this new bit of information at once. "If I am part of this royal line, then why did you give me away?" he asked Javan in a much stronger voice, not acknowledging the other tiger.

"I did not give you away," Javan said unblinkingly. "It was for your protection. Now, look." He tilted his head back, staring up at a rectangular hole cut into the top of the mountain like a chimney, through which Felline could see two moons in the purpling sky: pearl-like Panthera swinging around the giant Leo. "Darkness is falling. You need to leave for your own safety."

"Not until I get an explanation," Tygra insisted, but no one was listening. In eerie silence, the seven tigers got to their feet and left, parting to go around Tygra, Lion-O, Caspin, and Felline as if they were the avalanche, the intruders an outcrop of rock. The room seemed colder with them gone.

Without a word, but at a glance from Javan, jovial Caspin also left.

Javan stood last. "This village has long been haunted by an unspeakable evil," he informed them, striding down the length of the room. "I only wish to keep you safe from it, my son."

"I'm a ThunderCat," Tygra said forcefully. "I don't run from a fight. Something my _father_ taught me. And am I supposed to believe you sent me away because of bogeymen?"

Once more stern, Javan stopped in front of them, as tall as Panthro. "If you cherish your life, you will go now," he said. Then, he left as well.

Felline gaped after him, dumbstruck. Surely, these tigers – so friendly, so welcoming, so glad to see their prince return – did not mean to send them back out onto the mountain at night. She would be fine, of course, and even Tygra could survive the sub-zero temperatures, but what about Lion-O? The snow and altitude were no place for a lion. Did they mean to kill him? And never mind shelter, what about food? By inviting them into their home, shouldn't the tigers at least provide the necessities for their guests?

Her only answer was darkness and silence. Beyond the council chamber, with its large, sunken pit in which the fire was still merrily burning, not a light shone. She didn't even know where their cloaks had been taken.

"I wish I'd never found this place!" Tygra exclaimed in anguish.

"Tygra!" Lion-O hissed. "He's your father."

"_Claudus_ was my father," Tygra snarled through his fangs. "_He's_ just a cat who abandoned his child."

"Give him a chance," Lion-O urged. He'd been so understanding through the whole ordeal, obviously wanting to protect and support his older brother, that Felline felt a flare of approval that warmed her to her toes. Unaware of her feelings, however, Lion-O tried to catch Tygra's eye. "Don't let your pride get in the way of forgiveness," he said.

Interrupting him, a strange squeal echoed through the caverns, sounding both near and far, simultaneously organic and mechanical.

"What was that?" Tygra, already on edge and spoiling for a fight, furiously demanded of the empty tunnel.

Except it wasn't empty. Felline's tail swelled. The squeal sounded again, multiplied by two, by four, by ten, by twenty. Pairs of large, yellow orbs glowed through the darkness that congealed into a misty purple shimmer, bringing with it a stench of decayed meat that almost bowled her over. Clicking, squealing, the owners of the eyes crawled forward, their stink rising off them in waves, saliva hanging in ropes from their curved, chitinous teeth. She got the impression of long, skeletal, insect-like legs, three-taloned feet, and creatures the size of cats, but with the rotten-meat smell making her eyes water she couldn't see much else.

"I think it's the bogeymen," Lion-O said, drawing the Sword of Omens, which immediately lengthened with a star-like shine.

Stone-faced, Tygra pulled out his whip and Felline brought the gunblade to her shoulder. If the Sword was that eager for blood, then these creatures were pure evil. Twisted and deformed, they could clearly smell the cats, for they broke into a shambling gallop.

With the council chamber at their backs and a bridge over a chasm in front of them, the only way _out_ was _through_, so Tygra and Lion-O charged headlong into the tunnel to meet the rush of death. From behind, Felline centered one of the creatures between her sights and began firing. The first one she shot simply crumpled in its tracks to lay in a blackened heap, but she caught a second one mid-leap, spinning its body around and hurling it back. She got a good look at it then. It reminded her of a cross between a lizard and an insect, with a curved spine, backward-jointed legs, a whip-like, spiked tail, and flaps of skin that stretched from knee to elbow. Many of the creatures were taking advantage of their ability to glide for short distances, squealing. Lion-O cut a few out of the air, and Tygra beat them back with his whip.

When all lay bleeding on the ground, Felline jogged to meet Lion-O and Tygra in the vast living area. The brothers stood back to back but parted to let her in. The fire burning in the circular communal pit drew her eyes; she could have sworn it hadn't been lit a few minutes ago.

"Where is everyone?" she asked aloud. Despite the fire, the cave seemed deserted again. Nowhere could she see doors or shelters behind which the tigers must be safe from these creatures.

"No idea," Lion-O said shortly.

The smell abruptly worsened, and Felline hissed. While they watched in revulsion, the odd, purple-black mist rose from the bodies, and then the purple-black bodies rose from the ground, all thorny hide, taut sinew, and stringy muscle. The creatures resumed their hungry, high-pitched squealing.

"What are they?" Lion-O asked, unnerved.

"Whatever they are, they're not going down," Tygra answered unnecessarily.

"But we will if we don't get to safety fast," Lion-O said.

Tygra and Felline nodded. When Lion-O dashed for the nearest exit, they followed. So did the creatures.

They hadn't been down this tunnel yet. It seemed to be made entirely of ice, sheet-smooth along the floor and jagged with crystals across the ceiling. To her horror, Felline lagged behind, her legs not long enough to keep up with both a lion and a tiger in a flat-out sprint. She kept running, feeling the fetid breath of their pursuers on her heels.

"Guess your father was telling the truth," Lion-O panted grimly. He looked back, his eyes raking the cave for something, anything, that would save them.

"Tygra – I can't –" Felline broke off with a terrified scream, feeling the snag of a talon in her tunic.

"I've got you!" He reached back and took her outstretched paw, yanking her forward so that she was skimming the icy ground more than running along it.

"Thank you!" she gasped, too frightened for tears. With his help, she was able to keep pace. She dug in with her toes and ran for their lives.

Lion-O, meanwhile, leaped toward a cluster of particularly thick, long icicles clinging to the ceiling. The Sword cut through them, singing its otherworldly song. When he landed, the icicles crashed down to form a barrier.

As though unable to comprehend failure, the creatures slammed headlong into the icicles, sticking their skeletal limbs between the cracks, wedging their squealing faces in, wriggling as if to chew their way through.

Felline and the others didn't wait to see how long it would take them to do it. They ran blindly into the dark.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello, Dear Readers! I have to say that Queen Leona was one of my favorite characters visually. So freaking gorgeous! I don't know that I thought much of her personality-wise, but I realize she had about thirty seconds of screen time and my inner feminist needs to lighten up. LOL._

_I got these first two parts written pretty fast, since they're nothing but a transcription of the episode . . . sorry about that. ^_^;; I will say, though, that this episode is beautiful - they were more careful with the art and the music is epic. I don't feel this was my best work, but *sings* I don't care! Lalalala! I hope you liked it, anyway. X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Mooncloudpanther**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Heart of the Demons**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Momochan77**, **The Night Whisperer**, and **Ashleyjenko**. You guys deserve every one of these shout-outs. Anything to show my appreciation of your time in not only reading, but leaving me these wonderful reviews that I can come back and smile over whenever I'm feeling down. :3 Thank you!_

_Ever Yours,_

_Anne_


	11. Going Native, part three

After a night spent in a deadly game of hide and go seek, they finally shook their pursuers around dawn, although it was anybody's guess what time it truly was, so deeply had they penetrated the mountain. Exhausted, Felline fell asleep on the earthen floor of a small cave. When she woke what felt like mere minutes later, she heard hushed voices and the soft snapping of a fire.

"I want to go back," Tygra said.

"All right," Lion-O agreed. "Are you sure you want to go alone?"

"Relax. Nothing's going to happen." Felline heard a scuff in the dirt, the pat of a paw on armor. "I'll catch up with you later."

"Sure."

She groggily pushed herself up, rubbing her wrist into a sandpapery eye. Whatever Lion-O had found to fuel the fire didn't burn as cleanly as the tigers' smokeless fires.

"Hey," he said quietly, when he saw the glint of her eyes in the light. "We didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," she murmured, accepting the canteen he offered. "Has Tygra gone to talk to Lord Javan?"

"Yeah." Moodily, Lion-O picked up a stick and poked at the fire, which, she smelled with relief, was only wood after all. Damp, old wood, and precious little of it, but still wood. "There shouldn't be anything to worry about, not with the sun up, but . . ."

"Something's wrong," Felline finished with him. "Jinx."

Lion-O grinned. For a moment, they shared a moment of humor, but then he flipped the stick onto the flames.

"I know I shouldn't feel this way," he said, frowning. "Suspicious of them, I mean. I'm _happy_ for Tygra."

"I noticed it, too," she said, nodding. "Not so much what was said as what wasn't said."

"Like what those creatures were?" he suggested.

"And why isn't anyone afraid of them."

Lion-O heaved a troubled sigh. "I have to find out what's going on. For Tygra. I'm not going to sit here and do nothing. You coming?"

"Yeah."

He got to his feet and kicked dirt over the sad little fire, dousing it instantly.

"What do you plan to do?" she asked as he strode off.

"Some investigating. I need you to distract them for me."

"Me?" she asked, startled. "What can I do?"

"You can be our eyes and ears," he said. He led the way back down the tunnels, eyes scouring for the signs of their passing – the crushed ice, the gouges in the floor from the creatures' talons, the burns of discharged laser fire.

Felline clambered over a sundered icicle. "You want me to spy on them."

"Pretty much, yeah," he said, apparently pleased that she had caught on so quickly.

"I don't think you get what you're asking," she said, putting her ears back in dismay. She knew that she and Lion-O were essentially the Thunderian delegation sent to form ties with the estranged tiger clan, even if the entire situation was a complete accident, but she was no diplomat. She didn't have any experience at this kind of thing. What if she messed it up?

She desperately wished for Cheetara, who, as a cleric, would know how to handle something like this. Or Panthro, who at least had military training to help him. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Lion-O rolled his eyes. They were almost to the main caverns; firelight caressed the walls, coming from an opening to their right. "Just talk to them. See what you can find out. That's all I'm asking."

"Okay," she said in a voice entirely lacking in conviction. Feet dragging, throat dry, she headed for the opening.

Lion-O made to go left instead of right, but he didn't go far before he stopped. With his back to her, he spoke in a low voice. "Felline?"

"What?" About to enter the cavern, she blinked up at him. She could only see the side of his face, a single downcast eye, the unhappy curve of his mouth.

"I have to apologize," he said.

"For what?" she asked, bewildered by his sudden mood shift. "For yesterday? Look, Tygra was right. We're all fine, so –"

"No, I mean –" Abruptly, he turned around and looked her straight in the eye. "For how I treated you in the beginning. I said some things that . . . that I wish I hadn't. I was an idiot," he said bitterly.

Pinned by the intense blue of his eyes, Felline forgot about breathing. She was remembering instead. That night in the lake, when she'd almost drowned. The Wily twins had rescued her and Lion-O had tried to leave her behind. He had called her baggage, and accused her of slowing him down. His words had hurt at the time, but she'd long since forgiven him. None of them had exactly been thinking straight in those days.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I know," she said. She gave a slight shrug and smiled. "That was a long time ago. It's all right. Just forget about it."

He didn't smile, but relief cleared his face of the frown. It was as if a light shone from within. The light drew her closer, banished all of the leftover anxiety that had been building since the day before.

"Wow. I didn't believe it, but I guess that really was what you'd say," he said.

"What are you talking about?" she asked breathlessly. Her heart had started a kind of slow, painful pounding, making it hard to get air into her lungs. They were alone again, and he was finally, finally opening up to her.

"That was what you said during my trial, too," he explained, and then dodged the slap she aimed at him.

"Hey!" Like the slamming of a door, everything was back to normal. She stiffened, glaring at him. "That's not funny. Don't bring that up now. It's weird. I never said that."

"You just did!" He was laughing now.

With a ringing crystal clarity, Felline understood why Tygra had started an avalanche because of Lion-O.

"I take it back, then," she growled. She stomped past him.

He grabbed her paw.

She whirled angrily.

Time froze as solid as an icicle. They stood like that for several heartbeats, trapped by the surprise written all over both of their faces.

Lion-O let go and backed up, holding up his paws, palms out, as if trying to placate a rampaging trollog. "Uh, yeah, that was all I wanted to say. We should split up. You can do this. Talk to them, I mean." He laughed again, but it sounded fake, and he was looking anywhere but at her. "Just as long as you don't yell at anyone or give them, you know, that _look_."

She stared at him.

"Yeah," he said quickly, pointing at her face. He backed up another step. "That one. Don't do that. Good luck!"

With that, he dashed down the tunnel and left her standing there, torn between disappointment and confusion.

..::~*~::..

It was incredible to be among cats who had not only survived the fall of Thundera, but had not known of it, and did not care.

A woman named Tig courteously invited Felline to sit with her family on the skins placed before the communal fire that seemed to be the entirety of what they called theirs. By its light, Felline could now see that the original settlers had carved two levels into the cave walls, creating a very pretty, village-like vista within the confines of the mountain. The villagers had draped the archways and doorways with blankets, having no need of anything sturdier to keep out the elements. Felline had already tried, and failed, to find out where they slept at night. Although they let her roam wherever she pleased, any time she asked about it, it was as if everyone had been struck deaf.

"So, Thundera is gone. You don't say," the tigers disinterestedly observed to one another.

"I – yes," Felline said, taken aback. "I thought you might like to know."

"What is the city of lions to us?" Tig asked with unanswerable logic.

"Indeed," her husband, Grin, said with a laugh. "We are the poor, lowly descendants of traitors who have never once been permitted to walk its shining streets!"

He picked up his daughter and waltzed mockingly with her around the fire, drawing appreciative laughs from the gathered tigers. Marna, old enough to be mortified by anything her father did, broke free with a hiss and ran off to be with her friends, her face bright red.

"Has Tygra brought you here?" Tig asked Felline in a motherly way. "He seems to be very taken with you."

Felline blushed to the roots of her hair. What on Third Earth had given Tig that impression? "No," she said. "Actually, Tygra has chosen Cheetara. She is our last remaining cleric. Mumm-Ra destroyed the clerisy. Lord Jaga, the High Cleric –" She stopped to swallow the lump in her throat. It was hard to talk about it. "He could not save the king, but he gave his life to save us."

"Good riddance, I'd say," an older tom said gruffly. His nose was as black as the stripes along his cheekbones. "I'd wondered how a lion as young as your Lion-O got to be king. I weep for the future."

"Next thing you'll tell me is that Thundera's queen is a snow leopard. So much for the great cat clans," another tom said, leering at Felline.

Shocked, she curled her tail around her feet and said nothing. Lord Jaga's sacrifice did not seem to her something to dismiss so callously. In addition, she hadn't thought of it in quite that way before, that whomever Lion-O chose would also become Queen of the ThunderCats. The Council and his father would never have allowed his feelings for Cheetara to continue, had Thundera still existed. It was doubtful even Tygra would have succeeded there. Royalty and clerics did not mix. Lions married lions. That had always been the way of things.

She wasn't given much time to dwell on it, for the other tigers all groaned and laughed at the teenaged tom. He was handsome, his mane sleek and falling casually across his forehead, and he had been following close behind her all afternoon, though he hadn't spoken until then.

The gruff one smacked him upside the head. "Insulting a girl isn't the way to flirt with her, you blockhead."

He spluttered out a denial, but the laughter was too loud by that point, and he slunk away, as red-faced as Marna.

"Well. Maybe it was fate," Tig said calmly over all the noise. She resumed folding laundry out of the basket at her knee. The tigers' clothes were thick, covering them from neck to wrist and ankle, leather and fur and beautifully woven cloth. The other tigresses, sharing the basket and the work, all nodded in agreement.

"The lions gave no help, and they received none. They brought Mumm-Ra's wrath down upon themselves," a white-haired grandmother quavered matter-of-factly. "We, on the other hand, are safe here."

_We're safe now_, Tygra had said. _That's all that matters_.

"I see," Felline murmured. She was glad Lion-O was not there to hear how indifferent the tiger clan was toward his loss. Their loss. She supposed it was only natural; Tig and her family had not been there, had not seen and heard the unspeakable horror that she and the others had.

Tig had not had to leave her dead sister behind to save her own tail.

"Forgive us, Felline," Tig said softly, and Felline looked up into kind blue eyes. "Perhaps living in this village has made us forget what it's like in the outside world. I'm sure it must have been terrible, but you're still alive, and you're not alone. It's not over yet."

Little Marmon clambered into Felline's lap. He reminded her a lot of Kat, the way the stripes lay in his mane. Felline smiled into his orange head to hide how wet her eyes suddenly were. "Thank you," she said.

Marmon gave her a pawful of battered jacks to spread out on the floor, refusing to relinquish the bright red ball until she'd done so to his satisfaction.

Even though Lion-O hadn't specifically asked her to, she spent the afternoon playing with the cubs, jump rope and kickball and hopscotch. Learning their ways, becoming, for a day, one of them, so that she would have a better chance of getting information from them. Amused, Tig commented on how she cuddled with Marmon every chance she got.

"We thought we were the only survivors," Felline said around Marmon's chubby fingers. "We've traveled so far, and met so many animals. It's wonderful to see other cats after so long." The cub patted her mouth happily, and she blew raspberries into his warm palm to make him giggle.

"Yes," Tig said, her eyes on her son. "Family is important."

"I'm happy for Prince Tygra," Felline said, glancing at the closed doors to the council chamber beyond the narrow bridge. "He's found family he didn't even know he had. I wonder if he will get to speak with his mother, too."

"What about your family, missy?" Grin asked, as if he hadn't heard her. He was reclining on one of the blankets, playing a game of dominoes with another tom. "You're awful young to be on your own."

"I'm eighteen," she said, to a good-naturedly disbelieving audience. That was what the tigers were like – they seemed to do everything together, as a group or not at all. At times, their camaraderie overwhelmed her. Why had they not wanted to talk of Tygra's mother?

Grin's friend lazily scratched his chin. "I seem to recall some snow leopards in these mountains, but that was years ago. Moved on, most like."

"But we don't," Grin said with a yawn. He tipped a piece over with a fingertip.

Felline smiled as she returned Marmon to his mother and said, "The ThunderCats are my family. Someday, we will return home." Someday, if they survived the war with Mumm-Ra, but she didn't think it wise to bring that up. Not when Mumm-Ra's lies were the reason the tigers had been exiled here in the first place. "You know, Tig, I'm sure that when we do, Lion-O and the others will welcome you. There are too few of us left to ignore a whole clan. You won't have to stay here any longer."

Like a cat pouncing, Grin claimed a bone for his graveyard. His opponent let out a yowl of dismay that caused them all to laugh. No one was even looking at Felline, too busy congratulating Grin on a masterful move. Thwarted again, she excused herself and got up to stretch her legs.

Something wasn't right. Back home, money would have exchanged paws among the spectators after a move like that. As far as she could tell, the tigers had no currency. No place to spend it, either; if there was a village market, she had yet to find one. And although she was hungry, thinking it must be dinnertime, the tigers betrayed no consciousness of the passing hours. They played, they talked, they gave the appearance of great employment without actually getting any work done. Nowhere did she spy a single cookpot or plate.

She grimaced around the unease curling through her middle. Time to admit failure and go see what Lion-O had managed to find out.

* * *

_**A/N:** Happy Easter, Dear Readers!_

_In case you're curious, this chapter didn't go at all like I thought it would. Haha! That's okay, though, it serves the same purpose I originally meant it to. X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Momochan77**, **Heart of the Demons**, **KelseyAlicia**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Ashleyjenko**, **Darwin**, **Mooncloudpanther**, and **Kittylover123**. THANK YOU! :3 Every single review just makes me want to keep going. It's like a high! (Or should I not admit that? lol)_

_All my love,_

_Anne_


	12. Going Native, part four

Collecting her dry cloak from a smiling tigress, who had laundered it for her, Felline swung it around her shoulders and headed for the cave entrance, buckling the clasp as she went. Ahead of her, feeble daylight turned the shadows gray, and when she stepped outside, it was into a heavy snowfall.

Lion-O stood at the top of the steep trail, his spiky head bared to the weather. "Strange," he murmured.

"Hey," she said, coming cautiously up next to him.

He raised his eyebrows, unusually sober. "How did it go? Did you learn anything?"

"Absolutely nothing," she said grumpily. "They act as if this village is the only place in the world, and they didn't even mention the creatures. Nobody answered a single one of my questions. They all ganged up on me and changed the subject every single time I tried."

"Secretive, huh." It looked like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek.

She didn't want to bring up the fact that she had neither seen nor heard anything of Tygra's mother, because she was worried her fixation on what color her eyes would be was turning into full-blown paranoia. "Plus, I'm hungry, but there's nothing to eat," she groaned instead, kneading her forehead.

"Yeah, I noticed that. Did you see anyone leave the cavern?" he asked.

"Leave?" she repeated, and then frowned, thinking hard. "I don't think so, but I wasn't watching. Why? What about you? Did you find anything?"

"Maybe. Look –" he started to say, but just then, Tygra appeared from the tunnel, draped snugly in his cloak.

He was smiling in an oddly peaceful way. He didn't bother with hello. "I had a long talk with Jav – with my father," he corrected himself. His smile broadened. "Maybe this can be a home for me after all."

It felt like a stone had dropped into her stomach and caused it to fall into her feet. Felline stared at him. "A home for you? You mean, you're planning to leave us?"

"This is where I belong," he said gently.

Felline opened her mouth, but she couldn't decide what to bring up first – What about Cheetara, what about Mumm-Ra, the Power Stones, their friends, their mission, his Thunderian duty? Was he really planning to give it all up?

She appealed to Lion-O with a look. For once, however, he didn't jump down his brother's throat. Instead, he quietly beckoned them both closer. "Take a look at this, Tygra. Those creatures that attacked us last night. I searched for their tracks leaving the village and I – I couldn't find any."

He turned on the spot, still searching, and Felline saw that he was right. The only visible tracks belonged to the three of them. The mountain's slopes spread out below them, blank as new parchment.

"Snow covers things. Like tracks, for instance," Tygra said flatly. As he spoke, the snow continued to fall in thick, fat flakes, clinging to their fur, their cloaks. "What's your point?"

"Haven't you noticed no one ever leaves the village?" Lion-O asked incredulously. "Not to hunt or forage. I – I haven't even seen them _eat_."

"You saw those monsters," Tygra said, losing some of his calm. "I'd stay close to the village, too."

"They don't even attempt to fight back!" Lion-O sounded close to paranoia himself. "There's something strange about this place."

"I've spent my whole life never quite belonging, and now I find my home and you can't even be happy for me!" Tygra cried furiously. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised," he coldly added.

He brushed brusquely by Felline on his way back into the cavern. Tail tucked to her legs, she watched him go. This was awful. Far worse than their usual spats. If they weren't careful, they were going to lose Tygra for good.

"There's something I'm not seeing," Lion-O said under his breath.

Felline raised her eyebrows. They looked at each other.

"Well, maybe it's time to take Anet's advice again," she observed. "You need to see with different eyes."

"You know, I think you're right," he said, excitement lacing his voice.

Lion-O chose a spot right at the entrance to the tunnel, where they could see the communal fire glowing bright in the darkness like a flower of molten gold. Felline stood behind him in the snow, out of the way.

He lifted the Sword, staring into the red depths of the Eye. Readying himself.

"Sword of Omens," he said, his voice echoing slightly, "give me Sight Beyond Sight!"

She waited while the Sword answered its master's summons with a growl, and then listened to the mountain's silence that followed. What was it like, to see the visions the Sword brought, to hear and smell what wasn't really there? He may as well have been a hundred miles away. She could only see the back of his head, and the way his whole body went rigid.

"It can't be," he whispered, sounding aghast.

Felline opened her mouth to ask him about it, but a paw curled around from behind and prevented her by pressing against her lips and nose.

Her heart leaped right into her windpipe and lodged itself there. She hadn't heard anyone approach! Unable to draw breath, she couldn't scream, couldn't warn Lion-O. She whirled around and came face to face with Lord Javan, looming out of the snow like a specter. Although his expression was angry, he let his paw fall away. She jumped aside, out of his reach.

"You must not know the truth, Lion-O," he said in the gentle voice that nevertheless brooked no argument.

Lion-O spun around, ripping the Sword's hilt from his eyes, which retained the blue glow for a few seconds. Once they returned to their normal shade, his eyes darted between Javan and Felline as if checking to make sure the tiger had not hurt her. "Felline, come here," he ordered roughly. "It's them. He's one of them. The tigers _are_ the creatures."

"What?" she gasped.

Javan's expression did not change. "You don't understand how it is for a father."

"He may be your son, but he's my brother," Lion-O said aggressively.

They glared at each other.

"Please, Lord Javan," Felline said beseechingly. Scared though she was, she approached him, looking up into his distant, wrong-colored eyes. "We need to understand."

A moment passed in snowy silence.

"Very well," Javan said at last. "It began shortly after the time Tygra was born. Everything changed. Disease swept through our village."

Although he sounded annoyed, Felline suspected that Javan wanted to tell them the truth. Wanted someone, anyone, to share his pain so that he would no longer have to face it alone.

As she listened, it was almost as if she had been there, he spoke so well. He told them of the suffering of his people while the incurable sickness gained momentum. How more died every day. He summoned a council meeting and announced that they must seek help or risk extinction, proposing the tigers send an envoy to Thundera. His lifelong friend Caspin, however, opposed this plan, stating that Thundera's cats turned their backs on the tigers long ago, and that they, the tigers, would not crawl to them then.

Javan had not wanted to believe that Caspin would sacrifice their people for the sake of pride, but Caspin and the councilmen had claimed that pride was all they had. Caspin had then offered an alternative solution: Instead of turning to the lions, they could turn to the ancient spirits who had protected their ancestors.

They performed the séance that night. Javan did indeed summon spirits out of the fire. Four of them, appearing out of a swirling vortex like crude stone statues with glowing coals for eyes, their shapes mere suggestions of animals as if they'd been sculpted by someone who had only heard of such things. A jackal. A serpent. An ape. And a bird.

Felline chanced a glance at Lion-O, but he was listening with the same sort of sick fascination she was feeling. He did not appear to recognize Javan's description of the spirits, in spite of his foray into the past through the Book of Omens, and the trials he faced in the spirit realm.

"I will never forget the way they spoke, or what they said to me," Javan said in a haunted voice. " 'Your plea has been heard, and we will grant your desire on one condition. You must sacrifice the heir to the tiger clan, the child you call Tygra. He will grow to be an enemy to the Ancient Spirits. He must be destroyed.' "

When Javan refused, the Spirits told him, "One life for many."

Caspin urged him to accept, and he did, feeling as if a stranger was speaking through his lips. "Then, it is done," the Spirits said, sealing the pact. A dagger formed in front of Javan, a wicked, curved, jagged blade that looked as though it had been broken and badly mended many times. "Tomorrow, bring the child to the highest peak. There, you will fulfill your part of the bargain."

As if to prove themselves true to their word, when Javan and the others left the council chamber, it was to find a village filled with life and health, laughter and tears of happiness. The Spirits had cured the entire clan.

Only Javan stood apart from this miracle, knowing what he must do. Against his wife's wishes – her tears, her rage, her helplessness – he took their only son, bundled him up against the cold, and carried him, purring against his chest, to the wind-blasted peak. Out of respect, Caspin allowed him to go alone. He stumbled often, unable to see because of the tears that clouded his vision. But instead of killing Tygra, Javan used the dagger to cut the cords of the balloon that would carry him to a better life.

"When the Ancient Spirits discovered my betrayal, they put a curse on us," he said with a tired finality.

"And only by taking Tygra's life will the curse be broken," Lion-O said heavily.

"The real curse for the tigers has been pride," Javan said. "We've never been able to overcome it."

"What of Tygra's mother?" Felline asked, pity flowing hot like the blood through her veins.

Javan looked at her out of eyes that had seen the loss of love. "Fyre could not forgive what I had done. We believe that she threw herself from the peak, trying to follow the son that I sent away."

No wonder no one had wanted to mention her. Felline closed her eyes, marveling at the sorrow and the joy this one event had caused in two completely different women.

Not asking for her pity, Tygra's father turned to Lion-O. "Take your brother and leave before sunset. For my sake, he must never learn the truth."

"I would, but he hasn't done a great job of listening to us so far," Lion-O admitted.

Javan surveyed the sky, the washed-out pastels of a winter sun lowering itself toward the snowbound peaks. "Leave that to me," he said.

* * *

_**A/N:** I don't know if everyone did or would have the same reaction to this episode that I did - that it was incredibly good, but tried to fit too much in too short a space of time. Last chapter, I tried to expand on the time missing from the episode, between Tygra and Lion-O running from the creatures to Tygra going to speak with Javan (as if nothing had happened? Seriously?!). This time, I introduced Lady Fyre, who is, obviously, my own creation. The whole episode, while excellent, is very man-centric. Tig and Fyre, to me, help balance out Leona's try at carrying a solo female role. Seriously! She's the only one with a speaking role. Even the Ancient Spirits all sound and look like men (which is fine, it's just saturated in this ep)._

_Personally, I'd love to see a concept of Lady Fyre, but I don't think my paltry doodling skills are enough to do it (especially when faced with Dan Norton's Leona and her sexy leg pose!). Any takers? X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Moonlightdeer**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Jaegermeister97**, **Momochan77**, **Darwin**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, and **Ashleyjenko**. You guys are doing great! Thank you so much for keeping up with me and my feast-or-famine updates! Also, thank you (again) for loving Felline._

_Ever Yours,_

_Anne_

_P.S. I totally forgot to say: "THE REBELS" HAS REACHED OVER 100 REVIEWS! You guys! This is momentous. We need fireworks. And pie. Lots of pie. And that number? That's you. All you._

_Thank you._


	13. Going Native, part five

Whatever Javan planned to do, they did not ask. They waited quietly outside the council chamber.

Tygra stormed out of it in a towering rage.

"What happened?" Lion-O asked, alarmed. The doors slammed shut.

"We're leaving," Tygra said tersely.

Before they could, Caspin called, "Tygra!"

They turned. The thin tiger stood behind them on the bridge that led to the chamber, looking just as he had when they'd met him. He wore his cloak fastened at his shoulder, the hood obscuring his face. "I've a message from your father," he said.

"I _heard_ his message," Tygra snarled.

Caspin raised his head so that the torches lit a sliver of his face, highlighting his self-satisfied smile. "Oh, I don't think you've heard this one," he crooned.

What was he talking about? Before his meaning could sink in, the sound of dislodged pebbles reached Felline from overhead. She glanced up.

Right at the tiger descending on the three of them with a weapon drawn, its two joined crescent blades winking in the light.

Lion-O hooked an arm around Felline's middle and heaved her out of range, but he stumbled in doing so, leaving himself open. The tiger swung his blades and separated the brothers on his landing, metal squealing against armor. He hit Tygra hard, knocking the wind out of him. Tygra fell, his whip uncoiling uselessly before it fell from his unresponsive paw.

The four hooded figures converged on him.

Javan appeared, as silently as he always did, from the direction of the closed doors. Short blade in paw, he sprinted toward the tigers trying to kill his son and beat them back with a swift, merciless ferocity. He turned and fixed his one-time friend Caspin with a glare that promised murder. Without hesitation, his enraged growl reverberating around the cavern, Javan charged and sank his blade deep into Caspin's chest. The redheaded tiger keeled over backward with a grunt of agony.

"It didn't have to be this way," panted Javan over the edge of the blade, his expression breaking apart.

Shaking, Caspin pushed himself to his knees, one paw pressed to the wound. Perspiration beaded the fur of his face. "It was the _only_ way," he ground out. "You betrayed your own clan. You alone brought the curse down upon us."

His foxlike blue eyes narrowed to slits of hatred. "And your son will still die."

Lion-O and Felline had helped Tygra back to his feet. As Caspin, groaning, weaved upright, his three conspirators closed on them.

"Then they'll have to go through me first," Javan said, coming between them.

"Humph," coughed the dying tiger. "_They_ won't have to."

Whatever Caspin had meant by that was lost when his breath expired and he collapsed in a heap on the cold stone floor.

"You three are in grave danger," Javan quickly said. "These creatures have no conscience, no remorse."

"What's going on, Father?" Tygra demanded. "What are you hiding?"

Javan's jaw tightened.

"It's long past the time for secrecy," Felline anxiously pointed out.

"Tell him, Javan, or I will," Lion-O said.

But he didn't. "My actions have turned me into a monster," he murmured. "I pray you can forgive me."

Outside the cave, the sun disappeared behind the gleaming ridge. Darkness spread downhill like spilled ink. Javan stood tall, fists clenched at his sides, his gaze inviting their condemnation and pleading for their forgiveness, as the hooded tigers behind him seemed to melt with the loss of daylight. Emotional pain etched lines into his proud, handsome face. That was when the tigers stood up again, cats no longer. Glowing yellow eyes pierced the darkness. Tooth-filled mouths opened in hungry hisses. The decayed stink billowed into the air.

Javan crumpled.

"Father!" Tygra cried.

A monster took his place, larger than the others, a patchy, brittle beard swinging from its jaw, its skin flowing like a tattered black cloak, its eyes blank, unknowing. It roared. In answer to its summons, more creatures appeared from the direction of the village, squealing.

Reluctant to harm what had once been an entire clan of fellow cats, Felline, Lion-O, and Tygra backed away.

With a rush of freezing air, the communal fire billowed up in bluish sparks, and then the flames turned a ghostly, blinding purple. From within the vortex, a shape emerged.

Four weathered stone statues, clustered shoulder to shoulder. Eight glowing, coal-red eyes.

"Kill them," the Ancient Spirits of Evil intoned. "Kill them!"

Felline watched in anguish as the monsters obeyed the directive and swarmed toward them. Which of those creatures was Tig? Grin? Marna?

The baby, Marmon?

"Tygra, watch out!" Lion-O yelled. "Felline! Don't just stand there!"

She wanted to say no. She wanted to deny the horror and the grief. She wanted to run until the whole thing became a bad dream from which she could wake.

A creature leaped straight for her throat. She drew the gunblade and flicked it open so that the blade reflected the ghostly purple firelight. With all the force of her revulsion behind it, she struck the creature out of the air. And then the one that came after. And a third. None of them stayed down.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Javan-thing streak through its smaller brethren and slam into Tygra. It pinned him to the wall with its talons locked around his neck.

Two of the creatures jumped on her, bearing her to the ground. Their talons snagged in her hair, her tunic, and the gunblade was knocked from her grasp. She saw Lion-O struggling beneath three of them, unable to throw them off or bring the Sword to bear. Neither of them could help Tygra, who was either not capable or not willing to fight back. He wedged his fingers beneath the talons crushing his windpipe, throat working spasmodically.

Incredibly, he spoke. "I know you did what you did out of love," he rasped.

The creature squealed louder than ever, jaws wide as if to begin feeding.

"I . . . forgive you," Tygra whispered.

The creature froze.

Felline held her breath while a trickle of blood ran down her cheek from a scratch on her scalp. Some of the tension seemed to have left the cavern at Tygra's words. The creatures sitting on her had hesitated. They stopped squealing. They were relaxing.

The Javan-thing released Tygra. As she watched, it shrank and transformed.

"No!" the watching Spirits howled. "It cannot be!"

But it was. Javan had returned. Every creature ceased its assault and stood back, letting her push herself upright, giving Lion-O room to straighten. Everywhere she looked, tigers looked soberly back at her. Tygra massaged his throat, gasping for breath.

"_Noooooooo_!"

Something fantastic and indescribable was happening to the fire. The space in which the Spirits stood seemed to be collapsing. First, the purple flames brightened to a painful intensity, and then they _whooshed_ like fire in high wind, faster and faster, and then ceased to look like flames at all. A shining sphere hung in the air, beams of light shooting from the center, while the statues stretched like putty across its surface, as solidly black as cutouts of velvet. Then the whole thing exploded. Purple and blue fog expanded through the cavern. One by one, the Spirits – or their shadows – stretched right out of existence, screaming furiously.

The fire subsided. A crack of thunder reverberated through the cave network. Like a chastised cub, the flames returned to their natural, gentle, life-giving orange.

Lord Javan, who had been examining his own gloved paws, gave Tygra what Felline suspected was his first real smile in twenty years. Pressure built up behind her eyes when she saw his joyous face. Her heart felt too big, laboring in her chest.

"You did it," Javan breathed. "You broke a curse born of pride through an act of humility. Perhaps if I'd been able to do the same, we'd still be together."

Tygra approached him, giving back an identical smile. The resemblance between them at that moment was striking and beautiful. "We're together now," he said. "That's all that matters."

_No. It's not_. Felline's tears broke free. They scalded her cheeks, dripping from her chin.

"I'm afraid it is not to be," Javan murmured, his fading smile confirming her fear.

"I don't understand," Tygra exclaimed, frustrated.

"It's how they survive without food or water," Lion-O explained.

Tygra stared at him. Felline covered her face with her paws, teeth clenched, choking on the sobs she did not want anyone to hear. Tygra still did not know the whole truth. She wished that she did not, either.

"When the Ancient Spirits cursed you, they must have let the disease back into the village," Lion-O said to Javan's back. None of the tigers contradicted him. His voice dropped. "My guess is there were no survivors."

Lady Fyre had not been the last to suffer, but Tig and Grin as well. Marna, and Marmon. _Everyone_ . . .

Tygra's brown eyes widened in horrified realization. "What are you saying?" he asked, voice shaking slightly. The villagers stood mute, heads bowed like mourners at their own funerals. "That you're all . . . dead?"

"Not dead," Javan assured him, "but not alive. Someplace in between. That was the real curse. But you have released us, Tygra. We can go home now."

He stepped forward to grasp Tygra by the shoulders. "Always remember, son. You are a tiger. I will be watching you with pride."

Felline broke down completely then. She sank to the ground, sobbing like a kitten. Why? Why had they come here, if it was only to lose friends before ever meeting them? Was Lepra watching her, too? Would her sister be proud of what they'd done? She couldn't bring herself to come out of hiding from behind her paws, couldn't watch as Lord Javan walked away and his people winked slowly out like the stars at dawn. Even Caspin's body vanished. She couldn't bear to say goodbye to Tig's smiling face.

No amount of tears could stop the tigers from going. They'd been set free as surely as if Tygra had cut the tie to a balloon. All that remained, as if it was a gift for them, was the fire, burning hot and clean.

And a bola whip, lying by itself on the ground. Lion-O let Felline cry herself out before offering a paw to help her up – she thought he might have been giving his brother time to dry his face as well. She leaned into him, feeling too raw to stand on her own, and after a moment, his arm came around to hold her against his side. Tygra, meanwhile, picked the whip off the ground and studied it. Felline realized that it must have belonged to Javan. It was retractable, just a handle with four sharp prongs that held the three spherical ruby tips between them, and he bowed his head over it.

"Tell me something, Lion-O," he asked brokenly. "Is it my destiny to always lose the things I care most about?"

Lion-O went to him, and Felline let him go. Now was not the time for her, or even for Cheetara. That would come later, when the pain wasn't so fresh.

"You aren't gonna lose me, brother," Lion-O said firmly. "Now let's find that shortcut."

At last, Tygra looked up, and they shared a smile. Felline wiped the tears from her face. They stayed by the fire for the night, each of them changed in some small way. Felline felt different. Stronger, maybe. As if only by breaking could true strength be gained. With their cloaks fastened and their hoods protecting them from the approaching blizzard, the three cats returned to the slopes at dawn, hiking toward their goal.

* * *

_**A/N:** For once, I think the chapter speaks for itself. :3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Moonlightdeer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **The Night Whisperer**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Momochan77**, and **Ashleyjenko** (if it makes you feel any better, I don't want them to fight over him either). Thank you so much!_

_Love,_

_Anne_


	14. That Sinking Feeling, part one

"By the way, what's that smell?" Felline asked.

She hadn't noticed it at first, certainly not when she'd been outside. Here inside the tank it was inescapable, like the reek of compost stewing in the sun, but so faint that it came and went like a curtain flapping through a window. It couldn't be coming from the refrigeration unit, since she'd wiped it down three times already. She kept catching herself stopping what she was doing to sniff in a vain attempt to locate it.

Although it had been an innocent enough question, the charged silence alerted her to a problem. She looked up, surprised, to see WilyKit suddenly _very_ busy and Cheetara, eyebrow twitching, fling her knife at the cutting board so hard that it stuck, point down, and quivered accusingly. The tank rumbled smoothly onward. They'd passed through the snowy mountains safely and had descended into a wind-scoured desert. On the flat sand, they were making good time, kicking up a trail of dust that stretched for miles behind them. Supplies being as low as they were, Panthro had taken control and was driving them straight to a town of which he knew, sizable enough, he said, to have everything they needed.

"What did I say?" Felline asked, bewildered.

"Cheetara might've . . . fallen . . . into a clarg patch," WilyKit said awkwardly, scratching the side of her face, golden eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Cheetara might've been _pushed_," Cheetara corrected acidly, fist on her cocked hip.

A clarg patch? "Oh," Felline said. Then, "_Oh_," as she put the word with the round, white fruit that grew on vine-like branches. When cracked open, the fleshless fruit revealed dark green, reeking goo. Hunters used the stinky juice to mask their scents, which explained why WilyKit was way over here, with Felline, getting in her way while she tried to repair the refrigeration unit, and Cheetara was way over there. It also explained why Tygra, so happy to be reunited with his girlfriend, had scarpered with the goofiest expression after one quick hug. None of the toms, not even Snarf, had come anywhere near the galley since. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean – it's not that bad."

"Yes, it is," Cheetara moaned. She covered her eyes with a paw, head tilted back. Every time she moved, especially her hair, Felline could smell the clarg juice stronger than ever. "It won't go away. I can't seem to wash it out."

"You should have been more careful," Kit said condescendingly.

She and Felline knew at once that she'd made a mistake. Cheetara made a face that was half a smile and half a snarl, and then she disappeared. WilyKit didn't have time to scream before Cheetara snatched her up in a stranglehold.

"_Eeeek_!" Kit screeched. "She's gonna kill me! I'm too cute to die!"

"This . . . is . . . your . . . fault!" Cheetara managed to get out around all of WilyKit's flailing. "I was trying to teach you how to hunt and take care of yourself and this is the thanks I get!"

Kit wasn't listening. "It took forever to get that gunk washed off. I don't wanna smell like Panthro again!"

"Serves you right!"

"_Smells bad_!"

"Hey!" Felline jumped to her feet. Lion-O and Tygra were doing better after their ordeal in the mountains, but now these two were going to start fighting? That wasn't right.

"Help! Help me, Felline!" Kit cried desperately as if just remembering that she was even there, stretching out her thin arms like a drowning cat.

Felline tilted her head to the side, tapping her chin with a finger. "You know, there is one way to solve this problem," she said.

They both looked at her, quieting down. "How?"

Felline had no idea what made her do it. Giggling, she threw her arms around both of them, cuddling up. The kitten's shrieks of "No! Stop it! Are you _crazy_?" were drowned by Cheetara's surprised laughter.

That was how Lion-O found them, in a three-way hug that looked more like Felline and Cheetara were torturing WilyKit. "Uh, Panthro says we're almost there," he said uncertainly from the stairwell, ducking into the galley as if afraid to come lower.

Felline sniffled and wiped a tear from her eye. Sure enough, her fur smelled a bit rotten, too. Oh, well. At least Cheetara wasn't the only one anymore. "Okay."

"We'll be right there, thank you," Cheetara said graciously.

"I'll be there right now," WilyKit announced. She squirted out of Cheetara's arms and streaked past Lion-O, her tail twice its normal size.

He caught a whiff of the clarg juice and his mouth twisted up. He bolted after Kit.

Cheetara and Felline burst out laughing. They didn't stop for a long time. With the laughter, the last ghosts of the tiger clan finally released their hold on Felline.

..::~*~::..

"It's a coolant leak. That's why it keeps icing over. All I need are some new seals," Felline said, leaning around Panthro so she could watch as an imposing mound of sandstone grew larger across the windscreen in front of them. "That's where we're going?"

"Dog City," Panthro affirmed. If he thought she stank, he made no mention of it. His scowl was the same as ever.

Dog City looked like a cup, a great circular wall planted in the middle of a forest of rock spires. When they got closer, she could see how big it truly was. The rock spires turned out to contain homes and shops, leather awnings protecting the glassless windows from the pitiless desert sun.

Dog City. The name sparked some kind of recognition in her, but she, frowning, couldn't remember from where. She followed her friends out of the tank and entered the town on foot, passing the feeling off as simple déjà vu. Something about the city reminded her of the swordsman's town, that was all. Panthro led them to the very foot of the city, stopping at the mouth of a natural archway in the rock. With the white-hot sun at their backs, the fires inside the cavern felt oppressive and suffocating rather than welcoming.

They proceeded into a slum market. Exposed plumbing snaked up the rock walls, and unlit lanterns hung from wires tacked into the ceiling or beneath fenced-off bridges of rock that led to the second level. Raggedly dressed dogs of all breeds sat at tables made of sheet metal, cinderblock, and plywood, on upended buckets and insulated boxes serving as stools, doing business or having a bite of lunch. They argued, they haggled, they whined and laughed and barked and growled. Bins and dumpsters overflowed with scrap and unrecognizable junk every few steps. It was incredibly noisy.

"I say we find the supplies and get out of here," Panthro rumbled. "Got some real bad memories of this town."

"You've been uneasy all morning," Lion-O said, to Felline's surprise. "What exactly happened here, Panthro?"

He strode off. "Forget it, kid. I don't wanna give you nightmares."

"He's probably just worried about catching fleas from the locals," Tygra said with a broad smirk at the clientele.

The locals. Dogs. _Jorma_. That was where she'd heard of the City of Dogs. This was his hometown. She watched her feet as she trudged after Panthro, troubled by conflicting emotions – from growing up viewing dogs as lesser animals as Tygra apparently still did, and gratitude toward the kind old hound who had saved her for no other reason than she'd been an animal in trouble.

"At least you don't smell anymore, thanks to the present company," he said to Cheetara, who made a face at him.

"Tygra, that's rude," she chided softly, but he smirked and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on, guys, dogs aren't so bad," WilyKit said reproachfully.

"Yeah, we used to hang out with them all the time in the slums of Thundera," WilyKat said. He held up a finger, expression going dreamy, drool forming at the corner of his mouth. "They made the best bone stew."

He sniffed the air hopefully, tail wagging.

"Mmm, bone stew!" Kit cried. "Let's find some while we're here."

Off they would have trotted, following their noses, except Cheetara said, "Maybe you two should stay close."

"But we can take care of ourselves," Kat said, grinning. Like miniature clerics, they took off running and were gone.

Felline and Cheetara exchanged an exasperated look.

Lion-O knelt next to Snarf and scratched the little petcat behind the ears. "Just make sure they stay out of trouble, Snarf," he said quietly.

_Nyaa_, Snarf agreed. He hurried after WilyKit and Kat, tasseled tail bobbing. None of the dogs spared him a second glance, which made Felline hopeful that he would be able to keep the kittens safe.

"Hey, guys," Tygra called. "Look at this."

While they'd been staring after the twins, he'd been studying a poster tacked to a rock pillar in a patch of sunlight. They joined him. Felline gazed up at the poster. Emblazoned across the paper, an ink drawing depicted a fierce warrior-maiden with a spear in her right paw and a buckler on her left arm. But she wasn't a dog. She was –

"A cat," Lion-O breathed. "What's she doing here?"

"She must have survived the fall of Thundera," Cheetara said.

"She's a long way from home," Felline murmured. As if she was one to talk. It felt like she and the ThunderCats had been to the ends of Third Earth and back.

Lion-O ripped down the poster, and Panthro peered at it over his shoulder.

"Now all she has to do is survive The Pit," the big cat said gruffly.

Felline raised her eyebrows. Lion-O was right. Panthro was indeed in a black mood.

Lion-O frowned at the poster, and a ripple went around their circle in the form of resigned smiles and shaken heads. They all knew that look. He was about to get himself, and the rest of them by proxy, involved in someone else's problems again.

..::~*~::..

The poster's artist hadn't done the arena justice.

They purchased tickets, the cheapest available, which put them in the center of the stands, in the middle of thousands of bellowing, barking spectators. Felline took her seat between Tygra and Cheetara, smoothing her tail aside before she sat. The arena's size rivaled Thundera's austere white stadium, but this – this was _barbaric_. It had the same blend of natural and artificial architecture as the city itself. Great chunks of rock had been built up between hollowed-out sandstone spires, forming the spine and outer walls of the construct. In some places, the audience was lucky enough to sit under awnings made of red or purple leather, sewn crudely together and giving way to sun rot; Felline put up a paw to shade her eyes.

She could barely make out the three canine figures standing on the smooth, sandy arena floor, their backs to one of the gates leading to and from the back concourses. The tunnel entrances were shaped like giant, collared pit bulls, reclining on the sands, torches burning on their paws, the bars of the gates glinting like teeth in their open mouths.

The fourth canine-ish contestant dwarfed the dogs. Felline squinted into the sun, blinded by the brutally strong light reflecting off his armored body, his – skin? hide? fur? – the blue of steel and shining over well-defined muscles.

Two of the dogs attacked the armored figure, who swung out a massive fist that connected with the taller one. The blow sent the dog soaring across the arena. He slammed into the wall with a crunch that Felline felt in her bones, slid to the ground, and was still.

The remaining two tried a flank attack. The big figure reached up and removed his helmeted head.

Felline couldn't stop a gasp. A trick of the light, the play of shadow as he hurled his own spiked head like a ball, allowed her to see that he wasn't a dog. He – _it_ wasn't even alive. The telltale tesla coil rising from between its shoulder blades showed it to be an automaton. It waited while its detached head finished the battle for it. The head spun lethally around the floor, bowling over the two dogs as if they were made of sticks. Then, with a spark that cracked like thunder, the artificial animal scooped up and lifted its head high like a trophy while grand music played, blaring over the noise of ecstatic, hysterically cheering dogs, before jamming it back onto its neck.

"How is that even fair?" Felline burst out. She didn't like the look of that automaton. Not at all. Someone had sunk a lot of money into it, and it obviously had a very good programmer and handler. By the adoring screams of the dogs, she learned that it had never lost a battle.

Appalled, the other ThunderCats sat mute until Panthro leaned around Tygra and told them, "This is The Pit. It's where slaves and criminals fight to survive."

"And to entertain," Tygra said. His face suggested that he had just eaten a pickleberry. "Like I needed another reason not to like dogs."

"So our cat is one of the contenders?" Felline asked. Which meant that she was either a slave or a criminal. She wondered which one, and how. What could an animal possibly do to deserve a life of kill or be killed and imprisonment, day after day?

Lion-O looked at the wrinkled, ripped poster that he'd carried in. Then he leaned into his canine neighbor and demanded, "Who's in charge?"

The dog gave him the mournful look exclusive to canines, and then obligingly pointed across the arena, to the tallest spire. Close to the top, leaning above The Pit, they could see a balcony jutting out beneath its very own awning. Frowning at it, Lion-O stood up.

* * *

_**A/N:** Gotta run, lots to do today! I hope you all have enjoyed this chapter! X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Moonlightdeer**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Momochan77**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Heart of the Demons**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Ashleyjenko**, **Kittylover123**, and **Jaegermeister97**. Thank you so much, everyone!_

_Hoping everyone has a great weekend,_

_Anne_


	15. That Sinking Feeling, part two

Unexpectedly, they encountered very little opposition as they hunted out the stairs and took the dark, hot, muggy climb. At the top, Cheetara reached out, grasped a pawful of the tattered leather curtain, and pulled it aside. The balcony held a single chair, its metal frame draped in more leather and skins. It faced outward, past the crooked railing at the balcony's edge.

Lion-O marched right up to the chair and thrust the poster in its occupant's face. "What d'you know about this cat?" he snarled.

"She's a fighter. Belongs to me," growled a big, deep voice. Felline hung back with Panthro, not sure she wanted to see who owned a voice like that.

"She doesn't belong to anyone," Lion-O disagreed.

"That so?" the voice asked, amused.

"Yeah," Lion-O said, not missing a beat. "She's a free cat now, so we'll be taking her with us."

With a nasal growl, voice's owner unfolded himself from the chair. Felline nearly lost her composure when she saw the lean, narrow head and pointed, upright ears, thinking he was a jackalman, but his coloring was wrong. Largely bared to the desert heat, short, sleek, black fur covered his back and arms, while the fur of his chest and muzzle were the color of damp sand. A dog, she realized. A very large dog with a long neck and longer arms, who towered over Lion-O the way the spire towered over the arena. He wore a wide leather belt with a white jewel in the center and khaki trousers tied off at the knee, a curved blade hanging by his left leg. Spikes adorned his shoulders and left wrist.

"You're welcome to try," he said in a dog's version of a purr. He narrowed calculating yellow-brown eyes and grinned, showing off a long mouthful of sharp teeth.

"Don't let him scare you, Lion-O," Panthro suddenly burst out from the back of the balcony.

"Uh, stay out of it, Panthro," Cheetara gently advised.

Panthro ignored her. "He may have been tough once," he snapped, leaving Felline behind with Tygra so he could march right up to the doberman, "but now he's too old and scrawny!"

The doberman whipped upright as if Panthro's scent was a physical assault on his damp black nose. He growled at the insult and then cried, "You filthy little furball!"

_Little_? Felline wondered, fighting a hysterical urge to laugh. This wasn't funny. It was terrifying.

Panthro wasn't cowed. He set his jaw, lower lip sticking out, and sneered up at the dog, as irascible as the day she'd met him. "You stupid, ugly mutt."

Fangs bared, they snarled and growled at each other, inches away from butting heads in spite of the fact that the doberman was a good thirteen inches taller than the general. Then, in a move that made Felline's mouth drop open as if it had been unhinged, the cat and the dog grasped paws like brothers.

Panthro chuckled. "Been a long time, Dobo."

"A lifetime, Panthro," the doberman pleasantly agreed.

"I can see that!" Panthro patted his arm, grinning.

"Are they friends?" Tygra asked, stunned.

Perplexed, Cheetara looked at him. "I can't tell."

Dobo grinned at Lion-O, all threats set aside as easily as shedding a winter coat in the spring. "You wanna see your cat? Well, you're just in time. She's up against Gormax next," he said proudly, as if showing off a prize pet.

The gate in the stone pit bull across the arena from them clanked open, and a lone figure marched out. Once she stepped into the sun, Felline could see that she was a tawny mountain lion, dressed like a slave in a brown leather dress that covered her to mid-thigh but left one shoulder and both arms bare. She wore no footwear on her creamy feet, standing on the sunbaked sand like a queen, head high, beautiful feline face unsmiling. The wind grabbed her ginger and white ponytail and set it dancing.

She squared off against the automaton, paws slack at her sides, shoulders thrown back. The fur-lined dress, slit to her hips so that the scorching wind fully bared her slender legs with every gust, gave the impression of female fragility, like her captors couldn't be bothered to keep her decent. She carried no visible weapons.

At the sight of her, the crowd went wild.

"She doesn't have a chance against that thing," Lion-O said, summing up everyone's misgivings.

Gormax didn't waste any time. It removed its head and sent it spinning across the arena floor. Nimbly, the lioness leaped out of the way. When the head came tearing back, she jumped right over it. The screaming of the spectators was deafening by that point, their voices pounding into Felline's eardrums, but she couldn't make herself look away.

As if magnetized, the head spun to the body, arced off the ground, and socketed itself, but Gormax simply removed it and repeated the attack. This time, however, the lioness was ready for it. She leaped gracefully over the head, floating like a scrap of autumn on the wind as she slowly turned over. In midair, she stuck her left arm straight out in front of her while her right paw plucked something out of the pouch buckled to her slanted red belt. Felline leaned over the creaky railing, straining to see what the lioness was doing, but it wasn't until the cat below let loose with what looked like a rock – a pebble! – that Felline realized she was armed with a tiny, golden wrist bow.

Three miniscule missiles flew from the bowstring. Three found their mark in the stump of Gormax's neck. They made ricocheting noises inside, and then the tesla coil went haywire, shooting bolts of white electricity skyward. From the neck, a geyser of flame and sparks erupted. The headless automaton fell with an impressive crash and lay on the ground, its toes twitching stupidly.

The battle was over.

Light as a leaf, the lioness landed on her feet. She hopped fearlessly onto Gormax's body and raised her left arm to the sky, the bow folded back into its wrist bracer. _Victory_, her fierce expression said. The crowd howled, whistled, and barked itself hoarse. Clearly, they loved this cat-slave. No wonder her likeness had been used to advertise The Pit. Far below the balcony, the money of Dog City, fossilized shells leftover from when the desert had been an ocean as well as a smattering of glittering jewels, changed purses in great quantities.

"And Pumyra wins again," Dobo said in satisfaction, his arms crossed. "You cats train your soldiers well. That warrior is making me a fortune!"

Meanwhile, that warrior was being led away in chains. Felline gripped the railing, wondering if she was about to be sick all over the dogs sitting, blissfully unaware, directly below her as they counted their winnings. A soldier! Like Bastien and her father. If Pumyra was here, then were they perhaps –?

The sight of Pumyra's jailers woke more memories within Felline. The amphibians – what had their names been? She couldn't remember – they'd been stationed in Foret to capture any Thunderian survivors to sell to the lizards as slaves. How close had she come to sharing Pumyra's fate?

"Let us buy her freedom," Lion-O was saying.

"With what?" Dobo scoffed down at him. "She'll earn her freedom if she survives one hundred fights."

"It'd be a shame if she escaped before that," Lion-O observed, not even trying to mask his anger.

Dobo growled, his brows and nose pinching in a way that made him look altogether deranged, but he seemed to recall himself and turned with a humorless smirk. "Make sure your friend doesn't do anything stupid, Panthro," he said with a wave of one long-fingered paw, as if to shoo them away like bothersome flies. He walked off the balcony and left the leather curtain swinging behind him.

Lion-O made as if to pursue him, but Panthro held him back. "The lizards are bad enough. We can't afford a war with the dogs, too," he rumbled.

Lion-O glanced down at the arena, where Pumyra was just then disappearing into the false night of the pit bull's mouth. The gate clanked down, separating them from her as surely as if they'd been the ones chained.

"She's a ThunderCat, Panthro," Lion-O exclaimed. "I won't let her be a slave."

Nor should they. Felline knew this without having to question it. They could not let Pumyra remain in The Pit. However . . .

"We have to obey the laws of this city," Cheetara said. She sounded like she was trying to interject some reason into the conversation, and Felline glanced at Lion-O.

He gave Cheetara a scowl that rivaled Panthro's. "Do you really think their laws mean anything to me, Cheetara?"

"They should," she said, her pale face stern. "_We_ are not criminals."

"Then _you_ can stay out of it," he retorted.

Felline bit her lip, her tail swishing back and forth as she listened. Panthro crossed his arms. The stubborn tilt had returned to Lion-O's mouth. His blue eyes were hard as stones. "I can't believe what I'm hearing. I'll do it myself if you're all too scared."

"No one's asking you to," Tygra put in. He obviously scented the danger, too. "There might be another way, if you'll slow down and look for it."

Lion-O seemed to struggle with himself a minute, but then he turned his glare on Felline. "Well?"

"Well, what?" she asked, sharper than she meant to. She didn't like being put on the spot like that.

"I notice you haven't said anything so far," he said mulishly.

"If you're asking me for my opinion, then I think buying her freedom isn't the worst idea," she said slowly. She wasn't going to let him get to her, not over something like this. She took a steadying breath and continued. "Dobo made it clear that we can't afford the price of a slave. It doesn't matter what the amount actually is, he's probably right, not with the few shells we were able to get through the exchange office when we bought our tickets. So, logically –"

"We get a job," Panthro stated.

She nodded. "Exactly."

"A job? That's the best you've got? That'll take too long!" Lion-O snarled. He scrubbed a hand through his mane as if trying to rub out a headache before it started.

"That's it, kid. You need to stick your head in a bucket of nice, cold water," Panthro said. "Let's go. We're not getting anywhere like this. It's too hot up here to hear ourselves think."

There was no arguing with the general when he spoke like that. Feeling like they'd all been tossed in a sack and dumped in a river, they returned to the slums.

..::~*~::..

Evening stole through the market, and the red and yellow electric lights overhead flickered like paws batting it back. By their steadying glow, Felline replaced the parts she'd been examining with a sigh of regret. None of the wares here were quite up to the standard she'd been expecting. She stood back, biting her lip, still looking at the parts in their colored bins while trying not to acknowledge the hopeful stare of the merchant. What she needed was Jorma's expertise. His wares may have been uglier than what was for sale here, but they were guaranteed to work. Nowhere in the market had she caught wind of the eccentric old hound. She hated to admit it, but it was possible he had simply moved on and set up shop in some other town in the months since they'd gone their separate ways.

She thanked the disappointed merchant with a wave and turned into the crowd, which wasn't thinning as she'd expected. Dog City kept strange hours, apparently. Even down here, she could hear the distant roar of the spectators in The Pit.

"Cheetara!" she called, glimpsing her friend's long, loose, sun-yellow hair through a break in the canine flow. She hurried to catch up.

"Hi," Cheetara said, but her sunset eyes were worried. "Any luck?"

"No," Felline said, sighing again. "It's all junk. Expensive junk. Nothing we can use. How about you?"

"No sign of them." Cheetara put a paw on her hip, gazing around the bustling market as if she couldn't admit defeat. "You'd think a pair of Thunderian loudmouths would have caused a bigger stir by now."

"Nothing we can do," Felline said. "They'll come back when they're ready. And Snarf is with them."

It was a slim thread of hope to cling to, which Cheetara's skeptical glance clearly pointed out, but it was all they had. Together, the two women made their way out of the cavern and into the cooling desert. On the way, they caught up with an unsmiling Lion-O, and Tygra, whose full arms showed that his errand had been much more successful. But then, finding food in the market shouldn't have been difficult to begin with, since dogs ate much the same way as cats, as Cheetara grumpily pointed out to her gloating boyfriend.

They weren't really angry with each other, so Felline didn't pay them much mind. It wasn't until they reached the ThunderTank, gleaming under the stars, that she realized Lion-O was uncharacteristically silent. Not noticing his preoccupation, Cheetara and Tygra went inside, calling for Panthro.

"Well, we're two for four," she said, when he paused before entering the Tank, his eyes on Dobo's spire. "Are you going to make it three?"

"Huh?" He blinked at her, eyes adjusting to the night.

"Did you find us a job?" she asked, as if reminding him of his own errand.

"Nothing," he muttered. "I checked everywhere, but no one's hiring. Too many gamblers in this town."

"You aren't thinking of betting on the fights," she said, aghast.

The look he gave her could have rusted iron. "Of course not. What do you take me for?"

"Sorry." She put her ears down, glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "But I take you for someone who tends to act on impulse."

Angry, he opened his mouth to retort, but she held up a paw. "Wait, please. I don't mean that as an insult. I should have added 'when something means a lot to you.' And her freedom does, doesn't it?"

Her. Pumyra. A ThunderCat. One of his people. _What is a king without a kingdom_?

He nodded, retaining some sullenness even after his anger evaporated. "I can't get her out of my head. This isn't right. I don't like feeling helpless."

Felline knew exactly how he felt. She, too, had something that she couldn't get out of her head: Dobo's warning. _Don't let your friend do anything stupid, Panthro_.

"Give it some time," she pleaded. "We'll figure something out. Okay?"

"Sure," he said, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Lion-O." She waited until she had his attention. "Don't rush into anything."

"I won't, Felline," he said. He headed for the tank's open doors.

"Promise me," she said to his back.

After a moment, he sighed. "I promise," he said over his shoulder. He ducked inside without her.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello, Dear Readers! I'm hoping life will slow down this week - as some of you know, I've been participating in Camp NaNoWriMo and using it to make some real headway on this story. The last four days, however, haven't allowed me to write at all (and I've now used up my buffer with this chapter post). I'm feeling the strain, but I'm determined to keep trying._

_So. Here we are with a little creative liberty. I know that the next bit takes place during the day, but I decided to tweak the timeline and extend their stay in Dog City. It'll all smooth out and make sense next chapter, promise. I'm working on it right now!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Darwin**, **Momochan77**, **Ashleyjenko**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Jaegermeister97**, **The Night Whisperer**, and **Seeds of Destruction**. I'm just as excited as you are. X3 Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Also, my thanks go to my most recent follows and faves._

_I am Ever Yours,_

_Anne_


	16. That Sinking Feeling, part three

Any simpleton would have known Lion-O wasn't sincere. Felline slept badly that night, the only other sound in the sleeping bay that of Cheetara's soft breathing. Kit wasn't there, nor were Kat or Snarf. She tossed and turned, waking from snippets of anxious dreams. When she finally gave it up at daybreak and made her zombielike way to the galley, she found Tygra and Panthro already there.

"He's gone," Tygra said without preamble.

Her tail drooped. "You're kidding. How?"

"Never came to bed last night," Panthro said, his mismatched eyes more pouched than ever. She wasn't the only one who hadn't slept. "We'd better pair up and go look for – What in blazes is that racket?"

A metallic thudding had broken the early morning stillness. Felline scrambled for the cockpit and turned on the monitors. The outside cameras zoomed in on the dog pounding on the tank's cargo doors.

"Better go see what this is about," Tygra said ruefully, for it was no big guess. He passed a tousle-haired Cheetara, who immediately followed him.

Felline and Panthro exchanged a loaded look and went to join them. Once they'd all assembled, the messenger led them to The Pit, where they joined Dobo standing tall and dark in the morning light by one of the concourse gates.

Struggling to keep his lips from skinning back in a smile, he passed Panthro the Gauntlet and Sword of Omens.

Felline stared at the golden Gauntlet shining in the sun against the shadowy gray of Panthro's fur, more shocked than she had any right to feel. Only the very worst case scenario could have separated the Sword from Lion-O, and he'd obviously gotten himself neck deep in it. _He_ _promised_, she thought, shaking with anger. He'd promised!

"That's our king you've got in that cage, Dobo," the general snarled.

"He tried to steal from me, Panthro," Dobo haughtily replied. "Would you rather I turn him over to the authorities? In The Pit, at least he's got a chance of gettin' out."

"After a hundred victories," Cheetara coldly pointed out.

Dobo looked at her. "Since Panthro's a friend, I'll make an exception," he said, so blithely that Felline wondered if he hadn't made this decision already, like when he took the Gauntlet from Lion-O's belt. "If Lion-O wins, he's free."

"And if he loses?" Cheetara pressed, but not as if she expected an answer. She appealed to Panthro. "Remind me again how you know this . . . friend."

Panthro closed his eyes. "Long time ago, Dobo and I met in The Pit. I was a prisoner of war, he was a thief. For matches, we were usually paired as a team. Guess they thought it was funny to see a cat and dog fighting together," he said.

"We beat everything they threw at us, no matter how nasty," Dobo said, reminiscing.

"While most warriors die here, Dobo somehow rose up to run the place," Panthro added.

The doberman let the big cat's disgust slide off the side of his sleek neck as he surveyed his domain. "Only slave that's ever done that," he said complacently. His pupils had contracted to dots in his narrow, yellow-brown eyes because of the glare rising off the sand. "I owe it all to Panthro. He was like a brother to me. I wouldn't have lasted a day if he hadn't taught me how to survive."

"That's not true," Panthro said bluntly, the Gauntlet clenched in one robotic paw at his thigh. "We survived together."

"Indeed, until that morning I woke up and found you'd escaped," Dobo said, the merest hint of acid creeping into his voice. He turned away.

"I always regretted leaving you behind like that," Panthro rumbled quietly.

"No, it was the best thing you could have done," the other said to the empty arena stands. "I was naïve to have expected loyalty from a cat. I learned that day I was going to have to earn my freedom myself."

He faced them again, this time not bothering to hide the crazed smile. "If your king wants his freedom, he can fight for it, too!" he barked.

"I don't believe this," Tygra grumbled.

"When is the fight?" Felline asked, surprising everybody, even herself.

"Tonight. An hour after sunset. Lion-O and Pumyra will open the evening matches," Dobo said, staring down at her with mild curiosity.

Felline had to look up a long way to meet his gaze; if she looked straight ahead, she could use the opaque jewel in his belt as a mirror. "May I speak to him? Right now, please?"

"I don't see why not. Going to wish him luck?" Dobo asked. He waved negligently at a bulldog guard, who came hustling forward at once to escort her.

"No, I'm going to kill him," she muttered under her breath. While her friends did not hear her, she had the unpleasant feeling that the doberman had, because he guffawed and then ordered the rising of the gate.

"Wait a minute," Panthro objected. "You're not going in there alone."

"You're not going with her," Dobo informed him.

"It's okay, Panthro. This won't take long. I promise. And I keep my promises," she said icily. Although she nervously eyed the gray bulldog and his ax, she let him herd her forward.

"Oh, no, you don't. One is enough," Dobo said. It sounded as though he'd blocked the way. "I can't have you staging a breakout in there and upsetting my fighters, now can I?"

"As if I would!" Panthro snarled.

"Easy, Panthro," Cheetara cautioned him. "Felline knows what she's doing."

"Are you kidding? She's just as bad as Lion-O is," Tygra said in exasperation, and then the gate clanked shut behind Felline, and she continued into darkness.

The tunnel led underground, possibly beneath The Pit itself, to another cave network. The heat made her fur wilt, which astonished her, since she'd expected it to be cooler away from the sun. There must have been some sort of subterranean heat source, like mineral springs or even a lava flow. She made a face, tasting the taint of sulfur on the air. Smoky, amber lamps cast dim circles of light on the rock floor and walls, reinforced here and there with lopsided bands of iron. It appeared to be sleeping time for the fighters, for the bulldog plodded past scores of them lying motionless on rock slabs without so much as a scrap of fabric for a blanket. Each cell was locked with massively thick steel gates, crooked and warped like the rock around them, as if worn down by the heat.

Sounds carried well on the still air, bouncing around the corners and low ceiling. Straining to listen, Felline distinguished Lion-O's voice.

". . . help you," he said, sounding disgruntled.

The only answer seemed to be an enraged hissing, rather like a cub throwing a tantrum on bath night.

Lion-O said something too quietly to carry, and then, louder, "You act like I'm your enemy."

"That's _exactly_ what you are to me," a low-pitched, feminine voice rasped.

"I am your king!"

Wow. That sounded familiar. Felline slowed so that she was inching along, curious in spite of herself.

"A king would not have abandoned his people when Thundera fell!" the woman cried, her voice breaking as it soared higher in her fury. "A _king_ would not have let his people be sold into slavery. And a _king_ would have done something for them by now."

"I did what I had to do so I could fight another day!"

"And how many more days do you need before you free your people?" Pumyra demanded in half a scream. "So many waited for you to save them from their torment, and until their last _breath_ they waited!"

Hold on. There were _more_ survivors of the fall? Stunned, Felline came to a stop so that her escort turned to her with a questioning woof, but she didn't have any attention to spare for him. Where – how? She grabbed the wall, reeling with the possibilities. Her father. Bastien. The people of Foret. Even her mother. They could all be alive.

Or they could be dead. From the sound of it, the lifespan of a slave didn't amount to much. What if this turned into a repeat of what had happened to the tiger clan? Felline didn't think she could go through that anguish again.

"I can't change what's happened!" Lion-O shouted. Felline could dimly see them, yelling at each other through the wall that separated their cells. "But I can promise to stand by you now."

"Coming from a condemned thief, that promise doesn't amount to much," Felline said quietly, announcing her presence at last. "About as much as the last one you made, I'd say."

Lion-O's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "What are you doing here?"

"Who are you?" Pumyra snarled, her posture that of a cornered beast. When Felline moved into the light, however, the lioness blinked as if a small, cub-like snow leopard was the last thing on Third Earth she'd ever expected to see.

"My name is Felline," said Felline.

Pumyra straightened, amber eyes traveling up and down, taking in every detail. "I don't remember you," she said, almost to herself.

"I'm not here to get you out," Felline said to Lion-O. "We tried already. There's nothing we can do. Dobo threatened to alert the authorities –"

"No, that's absolutely right," Lion-O interrupted, looking worried not for himself, but for her and the others. "I got myself into this, and I'll get myself out of it. I'm staying right here. I need the rest of you to lay low for a while."

Felline closed her mouth on several scathing things that would make her feel better to say – he expected them to lay low, when he'd all but thumbed his nose at the arena master? – but since they wouldn't help the situation in the slightest, she stayed quiet.

"Were you in Thundera?" Pumyra demanded suddenly. "Did your king save you?"

"I was there," Felline answered evenly, "but it was actually a mount that saved me. And a dog, if you can believe it. When I left them, slavers tried to capture me in what was left of my hometown. It wasn't until later that I met up with Lion-O. What about you?"

"Hmm," Pumyra purred, giving Felline another once-over.

Who took the opportunity to do some studying of her own, since it didn't seem like an answer was forthcoming. Up close, Pumyra was a breathtaking beauty, with a certain ranginess in the way she moved. She wore a pendant on a black string tight around her slim throat, and the shorter ginger and white hair that fell in front of her small, pointed ears like tails brushed her collarbones every time she turned her head. Her large eyes were heavily-lashed, her eyebrows thick and pronounced, curving down to meet the sable facial markings on her cheekbones. Her striking coloration included the top of her head, where her hair lay in sable and white stripes before fading to the ginger in her ponytail.

"You were lucky," Pumyra finally decided.

"She was brave," Lion-O said, causing both women to look at him. "She fought for her freedom too, because I wasn't there to save her. No one was. She was alone, just like you."

Felline felt a glow that had little to do with the overheated cave. She hadn't known he'd put that much thought into her past. She approached Pumyra's cell, although the lioness backed hastily up as if afraid of contamination and she stopped. "It's not his fault you were abandoned, Pumyra. He didn't know there were other survivors," she said softly, speaking as she would to a skittish mount.

"Like you," Pumyra said, pointing at her. "How did you avoid being captured by the slavers?"

"I killed them," she said bluntly. She neglected to add that she had done it without really knowing what she'd done. Fear was a terrible thing. Even now, the memory made her feel unclean. "It was them or me, and I wasn't ready to give up yet."

Pumyra hummed out her raspy little purr again. "Tell you what. When I win against _him_ tonight, _you_ can come with me. I like your style."

"How can you say that?" Felline gasped. "We are ThunderCats! It is our duty to follow our king."

"Suit yourself." Pumyra twitched her shoulders in annoyance.

"In all this time, we haven't seen any other cats," Felline said, striving one more time to get through to her. "I thought everyone else had been killed. Don't you think we would have come to help if we'd known?"

Pumyra didn't answer, hatred and mistrust oozing from every pore.

"That's why I'm here now," Lion-O put in eagerly. "I'm not going to abandon you again."

"Says the rescuer who needs to be rescued!" Pumyra gleefully crowed, shoving her face at the bars of her gate so she could see him as she taunted him. "You're pathetic."

"But, Lion-O, Dobo changed the rules," Felline told him anxiously. She curled her paws around the bars to his gate, feeling the rough, sweaty metal stick to her palms, wondering if it felt worse from the other side. "He says you don't have to win one hundred fights. You only have to win once. Against Pumyra."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered.

"This is never going to work!" she wailed, leaning her forehead against the bars. "We either lose you, or we lose her. It's a no-win situation."

"You'll just be losing him, because I'm not about to lift a finger to help my enemy," Pumyra composedly said in the next cell over.

That time, Felline ignored her. Who knew what insanity Pumyra had suffered since the fall, especially here in The Pit? She certainly seemed wilder than any cat Felline had ever met, much more feral than a trained soldier should be. She had spent too much time fighting to survive, viewing everyone around her as an enemy, and Felline desperately hoped that she would understand what they were trying to tell her before it was too late. Felline squeezed the bars, hating their solidity, how they kept her from Lion-O. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but I'll think of something," he said, blue eyes dark and troubled.

Pumyra laughed without an ounce of humor.

"I stopped believing you'd rescue me a long time ago, Lion-O. I will earn myself the freedom _my king_ could not give me," she said venomously, as if hoping to physically hurt him with her sarcasm, "and when we get in that arena, I'm gonna rip. You. To _pieces_."

She slammed her paw across the iron bars of her gate, claws setting them ringing, before she turned on her heel and threw herself on her bed-mound. She didn't move again, not even when the silent bulldog returned and lumbered between Felline and the cells, pushing her toward the exit with his bulk, apparently deaf to her pleas to give her more time.

The last she saw of Lion-O was a lonely figure huddled in the corner of a dark cell.

* * *

_**A/N:** Oh, Pumyra! We have so eagerly awaited you. X3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Momochan77**, **The Night Whisperer**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **AllHailMedusa**, **Ashleyjenko** (Thank you so much for the nice compliments! :3 And, I don't know that I'm a great standard or anything, but keep wishing and keep writing - you'll become great all in your own way in time. Promise), and **Seeds of Destruction**. Thank you, everyone!_

_Humbly,_

_Anne_


	17. That Sinking Feeling, part four

For reasons none of them really wanted to examine, Dobo invited the ThunderCats to his balcony in order to watch the match. The giant braziers burned orange beneath the star-flecked, blue-black sky. The stands were packed with excitable dogs. The aromas of popcorn and fried foods wafted upward on the escaping heat of day. The gates in the pit bull's mouths clanked upward.

Lion-O walked onto the sands.

A great roar of booing swelled like a thunderhead, and out of the crowds, a few pieces of rotten fruit sailed into the arena. Thankfully, the offenders had terrible aim; Lion-O remained unsullied as he took his place in the center of the floor, facing Pumyra, who was nearly as tall as he. The desert wind scoured through her multi-colored hair.

Felline grimaced at the sight of her king, bereft of his birthright. The bulldogs had equipped him instead with a clunky iron shield and one of their own crooked axes. Everything about the tableau rubbed her fur wrong. His opponent, his weapons, his hecklers, they were all _wrong_.

The band struck up a grand fanfare, rousing the spectators to fever pitch.

"It's a rare treat to see two cats tear each other apart," Dobo explained, obviously pleased with the money he had already made off the match even though it hadn't started. "The crowd's excited."

"Too bad cats won't kill each other for some dog's sick pleasure," Tygra seethed. He wasn't taking the situation well, and Felline couldn't blame him, since that was his little brother and king with his life on the line.

Unperturbed, Dobo laughed and said, "I have yet to see your species display such loyalty."

Panthro, at whom this remark was aimed, merely scowled deeper than ever.

Down below, Pumyra let loose with a ferocious assault of tiny bullets that sang as they left the bowstring. Lion-O ducked behind his shield, but Pumyra swiftly kicked it aside as if she felt no pain in her bare feet. While Lion-O's guard was open, she resumed firing, but he swung the shield back in place just in time. Incredibly, she could loose up to ten bullets in such quick succession that they struck at nearly the same second. They must have hit harder than it appeared, for he buckled under the relentless onslaught. Pumyra leaped for him, screaming.

"He's not fighting back." Felline clung to the railing until her fingers went cold and prickled in complaint. "He's not going to fight her!"

"He'd better, if he wants to live," Dobo sniffed.

Pumyra unhooked a bola from the clip of her slanted red belt and flung it with the ease born of long practice. Lion-O ducked, but not fast enough to stop the weighted rope from relieving him of his ax and probably a few fiery strands of his mane. Like Gormax's unwieldy head, the bola spun back around, forcing him to flee. He didn't get far. It caught up to him in a flash, snagged his ankles, wrapped up his legs, and brought him crashing to the ground. The shield went bouncing away.

As if the humiliation she'd rained on him already wasn't bad enough, Pumyra drew back one strong leg and kicked him while he was down. The blow sent him rolling in the dirt. All their honest words meant nothing to a cat like her. She'd seen too much hate and oppression to understand anything other than action. But would Lion-O refusing to fight her be enough? Or would she kill him first?

"Stop," Felline whispered. She'd begun to shake, unable to absorb the horror playing out below her to the rousing, brassy music. Lion-O's face was torn and bleeding, his fur matted with sand.

He untangled his feet and picked himself up. Still, he refused to defend himself. Pumyra kicked him again. And again.

"Stop it," Felline said, louder.

And again, catching him in the jaw. The crowd screamed its approval. She punched him in the face, and he went flying.

"Stop it, Dobo!" Felline yelled. "You can stop this right now. Call off the match!"

"As if I would do that," he growled menacingly down at her.

"You don't understand! We can't lose him again! _Call it off_!" she shrieked. She leaped at him, claws bared.

"Felline!" several shocked voices called at once, and Panthro's arm snaked out and nabbed her right out of the air, bringing her to his chest with an uncomfortable bump before she could lay into the doberman. She squirmed in his grasp, hissing, "Put me down!"

However, the big cat acted as if he couldn't feel her there. "Does he have to be punished for what you think I did?" he demanded of Dobo over her continued struggles.

"Should I be the only one, _old pal_?" Dobo snapped with the same sarcasm Pumyra had used when she said _my king_.

He didn't spare Felline a glance and that, like nothing else would have, reminded her of her own insignificance. She went limp as her anger flushed out and humiliation rushed in, burning in her cheeks.

"When you ran, you didn't just leave me behind, you left behind all the enemies we had made together," Dobo went on. "I had to stand alone against that bloodthirsty horde."

"I ran because I learned my fight the next day was a death match," Panthro said, the rumble of his voice even deeper so close to his chest.

"So?" Dobo challenged. "It wouldn't have been your first."

"It was going to be between you and me."

"You were afraid you couldn't beat me?" Dobo asked incredulously.

Panthro let out a breath. Felline could feel his lungs deflating. "No," he said heavily, as if weighted down by an old sorrow. "I was afraid I'd have to."

Dobo said nothing. Wordless, Panthro set Felline on her feet. She reclaimed her place at the rail, as silent as either of them.

Down below, a bullet zipped into the ground next to Lion-O's head. Pumyra stood taut, another bullet already nocked and drawn, as he dragged himself upright for probably the tenth time, wrapping an arm around his lower ribs.

The moment stretched, quivering like the bowstring. Yet, Pumyra did not shoot.

As though silence had turned into a blanket drifting down from a clothesline, the spectators stilled in a wave that started at the top of the stands and traveled downward, widening eyes, opening mouths, pricking ears forward. Still, Pumyra did not shoot.

Lion-O was completely at her mercy, standing unarmed and unguarded before her. Even from so high, Felline could tell he was not at ease, but stubbornly refusing to back down. Any second, Pumyra could release the bowstring and end his life. Her face was frozen in a snarl. And still, she did not shoot.

While everyone watched in disbelief, Pumyra let the bullet fall from her shaking paw. It bounced between her feet. She lowered her arms, threw back her shoulders, and bellowed, "I will not kill my king, Dobo!"

Her voice echoed slightly, and the silence broke into mutters like the secretive gurgling of a stream hidden between rocks. Felline clapped her paws over her mouth, staring down at the two proud lions.

"And I will not hurt a fellow cat!" Lion-O shouted.

He'd done it. Somehow, , when all their words had failed, his actions had finally convinced Pumyra of the truth. Felline smiled at no one, basking in the glow of his victory.

"The penalty for forfeiting is death," Dobo responded lazily from his considerable height, as if the whole thing had been scripted. Felline stared at him, aghast. He wouldn't!

Both Lion-O and Pumyra nodded their acceptance of the verdict.

Out in the crowd, someone gave an anguished yell of, "No!" Boos erupted here and there, but when neither Dobo nor the fighters reacted, the unhappy dogs in the crowd began a slow chant that resolved into three impassioned words, screamed over and over by thousands of throats: "_Let them live_!"

To Felline's surprise, after a minute or so of this Dobo broke into a wide grin. "It seems loyalty is not only a trait of the dogs," he said out of the side of his long mouth. He raised his voice and one arm, sweeping it to the side. "You have earned my respect. You both leave this arena as free cats."

That time, his proclamation was greeted with full-throated cheers.

..::~*~::..

Felline couldn't wait to get out of Dog City, but there had still been no sign of WilyKat, WilyKit, or Snarf. Plus, there were Lion-O's injuries to deal with.

Of which Pumyra was doing a very good job by the time Panthro, Tygra, Cheetara, and Felline met up with them around the back side of the arena, on a bluff nearly as high as Dobo's balcony. Efficiently, the lioness finished wrapping his arm and then tucked the roll of gauze back in her hip pouch. "Maybe you know how to act like a king after all," she said in the gentlest voice Felline had yet heard her use.

Lion-O didn't return her smile. "You said you were among other cat slaves," he said, his pupils round in the moonless night. A storm was rolling in, dry and electric, cloaking the stars. The Gauntlet and Sword had been returned to him, and, but for the fresh bruises and scratches on his face, he looked as noble as he ever had. "Where?"

"A mining operation, there," she said, and then pointed one creamy paw to the south. "In Mt. Plun-Darr."

If she squinted, Felline could make out the spiky shape of the mountain against the lightning flashes that heralded the coming storm. It stood by itself behind low, rolling hills, and its spikes gleamed a strange, ominous red. Depending on the shadows the lightning cast, sometimes it looked like a lifeless pile of rock, and other times it looked like a fortress built by a denizen of nightmares. It gave her the shivers.

Lion-O lifted his Gauntleted left arm so that the Eye of Thundera glinted in the reflected lightning, and clenched his fist. "We're going," he stated.

"You can't mean to leave Kit and Kat behind," Cheetara said to his back as he started for the descent.

"Would you bring them with us into a gulag?" Tygra asked her, grim. "I have the feeling they're safer here."

"You're probably right," Cheetara conceded, apprehensively eyeing Mt. Plun-Darr. "That can't be natural," she murmured, but when they gave her questioning looks, she wasn't able to elaborate.

"Just a feeling," she said apologetically.

"Who are Kit and Kat?" Pumyra asked Felline on the way to the ThunderTank. It would take more than a day to hike to the mine, according to her, so they decided to take the tank to within a couple of miles, and then sneak into the camp on foot.

"We call them the Wily twins," she said, surprised that the lioness would open conversation with her like that, but flattered all the same. "They're a couple of kittens Lion-O picked up along the way. Orphans, we think. They lived in the slums. They are the only other cats we've found."

"Hum," Pumyra purred, her exotic amber eyes fixed calculatingly on Lion-O.

Felline gave herself a second or two to gather her courage. Now was as good a time as any. "Pumyra?"

"What?"

"Were there – did you meet any snow leopards in the mines?"

"Ah." Pumyra's whole demeanor changed as the light of understanding went on. She cocked her head to the side and sympathetically asked, "Family?"

"I – maybe." Felline dropped her eyes, uncomfortably aware that Lion-O was listening instead of helping the others plot their course. "It's . . . my father. He was defending the wall when the attack came, but I couldn't get there in time. His name was – is – Snow. He looks just like me."

"Yeah, I knew him," Pumyra said, causing a balloon of hope to inflate so fast behind Felline's ribcage that she swayed, dizzy, and had to grope for a seat before she did something dumb, like faint.

"But that was months ago," Pumyra added, somewhat unfeelingly, as she sat gracefully in the seat across from her. "Strong cat like him, it's a foregone conclusion that they would have sent him into the mines. Cats who go into the mines don't come out again."

Felline tried not to think about deep, dark holes through which cats vanished like flames extinguished in the wind. Snow couldn't be dead. Not now, when they'd finally learned of the existence of other survivors, not when she was so close to seeing him again. The need to tell him what had happened to Lepra burned in the back of her throat like bile.

"Any leopards?" she asked desperately. All of a sudden, there didn't seem to be enough air to breathe in spite of the tank filtering the desert air so that it blew, cool, across her neck. "My mother –"

"I'm afraid not." Pumyra leaned across the aisle and gripped her shoulder as a tom might have to offer comfort. "I'm sorry," she said in her strangely raspy voice, "but that doesn't mean she wasn't there. There were hundreds of us and were weren't exactly allowed to socialize."

"The sooner we get there, the sooner we can free them all. Including your family." Lion-O had approached the two women, and he, too, put a friendly paw on Felline's shoulder.

Bolstered by their support, she straightened her ears and nodded. "Right. Thank you."

Lion-O smiled at her, and then bent down so that he could say in an undertone, "This is a promise I'll keep."

He moved away before she could respond.

"I hope so," Felline whispered, sitting back. She'd been able to forgive him once, but, for his sake and her own, she hoped so.

Not noticing what had happened, Pumyra stood up and called, "Hey. How fast can this thing go?"

Panthro smirked at her. "Better hold on to something."

* * *

_**A/N:** Whee, I feel like we're moving through this so much faster! Guess slightly longer chapters do make a difference in the long run. What do you guys think - is the flow better in relation to the chapter length compared to The Exiles?_

_With Pumyra's introduction, the show took a decidedly different direction, but I am going to branch out even more. Finally, some of those old things I introduced so long ago concerning Felline's story are coming around again. I can't even tell you guys how exciting this is for me, hee._

_Reviewer Thanks! **Heart of the Demons**, **The Night Whisperer**, **AllHailMedusa**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Momochan77**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Ashleyjenko** (Thank you so, so much! I'm very happy that you liked Felline butting in, lol), **Darwin**, and **Moonlightdeer** (Ah, haha! You should. I am kind of shameless in that I actually DO like Pumyra, but I am A-OK with someone giving her a good hard punch, 'cause she kind of needs it, lol). You guys are the BEST! Thank you so much!_

_I am, Dear Readers, Forever Yours,_

_Anne_


	18. Having Both is a Blessing, part one

The storm reminded Felline of the one that cloaked Mumm-Ra's black pyramid. At least this time, the lightning illuminated rapidly-scudding clouds that were a normal, dark, threatening gray instead of something livid and sorcerous. Whatever the reason for the rainless, windy weather, Mt. Plun-Darr was swathed in the gloom of false dusk, echoing with continued cracks of thunder. To crown its nightmarish atmosphere, the massive skeleton of some four-legged, winged creature twined around the entire mountain, its fanged skull pointing toward the ground and its sinuous tail hooked around the peak. Judging from its posture, it might have died of starvation guarding the mine. A tattered, leathery membrane still fluttered from the wing metacarpals like the sails of a ghost ship.

The ThunderCats crept to the lip of the quarry that circled the base of the mountain. Its rocky, steel-gray dirt threatened to twist unwary ankles, while red crystals dotted the landscape like the spines of a giant cactus, ready to rip foot soles to shreds. Felline didn't like them. They were as sharp as thundrilium, but a deep crimson rather than thundrilium's indicatory pink. Their color reminded her of blood, like spikes of ancient, crystallized blood, frozen at the instant it spurted out of a gargantuan, severed artery.

She shivered. What had gotten into her? Lepra had been the horror story lover. Felline preferred fairy tales, and no fairy tale ever had crystallized blood in it.

Down in the quarry, a pair of crude watchtowers presided over a ramshackle tent city. A furtive flurry of activity disturbed the shadows; armored rats prowled the byways, their long, bald tails skimming the ground. The _clink_ of pickaxes against stone rose up like bizarre cricket chirps, and there were cats everywhere – digging in the rock, carrying huge slabs of rock, moving large carts full of rock. Their fur was as dull as a rat's, so matted in filth had they become, which was the sign of cats who had given up on life. Ragged tunics and short-pants, or ill-fitting robes tied with bits of rope, hung over emaciated bodies, flapping pitifully at elbow and calf, making it difficult to tell male from female.

Felline watched in unspeaking abhorrence as a tom collapsed, unable to push his overloaded cart any longer. At once, a rat appeared. For a fleeting moment, she thought the bandy-legged rodent had two tails, but then he lifted his small, wiry arm and brought the whip whistling down. The crashes of thunder drowned out the cat's screams, but the lightning threw his and his tormentor's shadows up the wall in ghastly relief.

She buried her face in the dirt, trembling from head to toe.

"I can't stand to see our people treated like this," Cheetara said, speaking Felline's thoughts aloud.

"Try living it," Pumyra instantly spat. "For _months_ I suffered lashings from those rodents. We gave up hope of being saved long ago."

"Today they will go free," Lion-O said to her. "That's a promise."

"You say it's the Sword of Plun-Darr that old rat is digging for?" Panthro hissed when she didn't respond.

Felline raised her head right when Pumyra nodded. She'd told them as much on the way, of Mumm-Ra's cursed Sword and the corpulent rodent king, Ratar-O, determined to dig it up. Rumor had it that anyone who sought the Sword was fated to die, which was why Ratar-O had bought so many slaves off the lizards, so he could send the cats to fetch it while he waited above in perfect comfort.

The Sword of Plun-Darr was the reason no cat who went in the mine came out alive.

"If what I learned through the Book of Omens is true, its power rivals my own Sword," Lion-O said grimly. "If Mumm-Ra finds that weapon, it may not matter if we get to the other Stones first."

"Then while you free slaves, I'll take care of the Sword," Cheetara volunteered. Felline admired the confidence of their last remaining cleric as Cheetara stood. Felline fully believed that if anyone could get it, it was Cheetara.

Tygra, however, got to his feet as well. "I'm coming with you."

"You don't think I can handle it alone?" Cheetara asked teasingly.

"Why would you want to, when you could handle it with me?" he purred at her.

"Oh, brother," Panthro muttered, shaking his head, while Felline mimed vomiting over the ledge.

Pretending the pair of them weren't there, Lion-O jumped up and hurried to get in front of Cheetara. "Be careful," he said, and when she gave him a dazzling smile, he stepped aside so that she and his quizzical brother could pass. Within seconds, they vanished in one of the many caves dotting the quarry walls.

After a moment – "You like her, don't you?" Pumyra coyly asked at his shoulder.

"No," he said with an embarrassed laugh. Then, when her curious gaze didn't relent, he added, "I mean – I'm over it."

No one had actually asked him that point-blank before. He smiled uncomfortably, as if hoping she would change the subject. She didn't.

"Maybe it's time you move on to someone else," she said.

There was a short, perplexed silence.

Lion-O looked nothing short of revolted at the suggestion, which Felline thought was quite right. _Pumyra apparently has as little shame as Tygra_! she thought in outraged disgust.

The lioness had spent a whole day threatening Lion-O, and she'd even tried to kill him in the arena, and now she – what – was interested in him? Either that, or she was pulling his leg. If it was a joke, it wasn't very funny.

Apparently, Panthro agreed with her. "Enough flirting," he grumbled, paws on his hips, thrusting his big, square, grouchy face in between the two lions. "Let's do something about those slaves."

Primly, Felline walked past them, tail and nose in the air. Grinning foolishly, both Pumyra and Lion-O broke into a run around her, keen to put some distance between themselves and the general. In hissed whispers, the four of them cobbled together a plan. When they trooped into the camp itself, they did so without talking. They skulked around the edges, although hiding the miniature mountain that was Panthro was a bit of a chore, and waited until it seemed like the guard was thinning and the work slowing down for the night.

Felline, who had never seen a rat up close, crawled up to a tent and watched them through a popped seam in one of its corners, her body obscured by a curved pole. They resembled lizards more than dogs or cats, their long-snouted heads squatting on their thick necks, their shoulders narrow and forward-facing, their paws nearly indistinguishable from their feet. They wore cheap helmets and breastplates, and billowing trousers tied at the ankle. They squeaked at each other through their protruding front teeth as if speaking in code. Constantly in motion, their beady eyes seemed determined to see everything at once.

Their strength was in numbers. Where the rats were few, the cats had a chance. Felline nudged Lion-O and pointed. An old tom had wandered near their hiding place and sagged, breathing heavily, down the side of a boulder. As anxious as she was to find Snow, they had to start liberating their people somewhere, and this tom needed immediate assistance. His ears lay flat in defeat. It was only in the absence of his rat tormentors, she guessed, that he had allowed himself to rest.

Lion-O nodded at her, slunk around the tent, and rummaged in an abandoned knapsack leaning against it. He came up with a wooden bowl. Then, with the others trailing behind him, he dipped the bowl into a stone trough and brought it, dripping, to the cat. Eyes closed, cheeks sunken, mane lank and greasy, the old tom did not seem to realize anyone was there.

"Here," Lion-O said, voice low with compassion, and offered the bowl. "Drink this."

Exhaustion veiling his bloodshot eyes, the tom looked up. His mouth dropped open, displaying wide gaps between his remaining stubbly teeth. Eyes growing so large his withered face resembled a skull, he rasped, "Lion-O?"

He accepted the proffered bowl with bony paws, balancing it on his fingertips so that he wouldn't accidentally touch Lion-O's fingers. "My king has returned," he whispered reverently, and then drank as if he'd never tasted anything finer.

"I only wish I came sooner," Lion-O said sadly.

Felline's heart went out to the old tom, a total stranger, but a _cat_. Vividly, she recalled the terror of that last night in Thundera, the attack, the missiles and explosions, the tabby who had given her a cloak, the families routed from their homes to be shot down in the streets. He'd survived all of that, but had not had a Lightning or a Jorma to smuggle him out of the city. She knelt next to him, rubbing his back gently when he coughed a little on the water, and he rewarded her with a weak smile of gratitude. The bumps of his spine and shoulder blades jabbed through the thin fabric of his tunic.

"They said you wouldn't come back. That you'd forgotten," the old tom said in his gravelly voice, frowning at the bowl. "I knew you would. I never lost hope."

Felline couldn't help glancing at Pumyra as he said this. The lioness was staring at him, her mouth set in a thin, angry line. She did not contradict him.

"Who did this to you?" asked Panthro.

Hatred deepened the wrinkles of his face. He pointed with one accusing claw. "_They_ did."

There, in the repeated flashes of lightning, intermittent shadows described a bent-backed rodent shape on the quarry wall, and the whip, rising and falling with blood-letting speed. Pumyra bristled, her expression livid, and growled as only a lion could. She would have run off but Lion-O was quicker – he snagged her by the shoulders and spoke over her bestial snarls.

"Stick to the plan and they'll all be free soon enough," he said urgently.

She strained against his hold, still growling.

"Pumyra, calm down," Felline hissed, standing up. "What's wrong with you? You'll blow the whole thing!"

She didn't listen to either of them. She clawed Lion-O in the arm and darted away when he involuntarily let go, and then she hurtled straight for a mischief of rats standing around a fallen cat.

Lion-O exchanged a stunned look with Panthro, and then dashed after her.

"Lion-O!" Felline gasped.

"Aw, _cripes_," Panthro groaned, throwing up his paws.

They left the old tom sitting bemused on the ground and raced after their friends.

A white rat, rather better dressed than the others but stunted, as if he'd stopped growing as a pup, was laying into the fallen cat with wild abandon, making his three-tailed whip sing. An eyepatch covered one eye. The other glittered beadily. White hair stuck up between his big ears like a tuft of bleached grass, and his front teeth were crooked, one much bigger than the other. In short, he was ugly, inside and out, for he laughed as he coaxed yowls of agony from his victim.

Pumyra's paw wrapped around his skinny wrist, halting the whip. She picked up the rat by the arm and flung him like a champion hurler. He crashed flat on his back into a crate and lay within its shattered remains, groaning.

Apparently, stopping him wasn't enough for Pumyra. Roaring, she pounced on him, leaving her back unguarded. Lion-O punched out one of the rat's friends to protect her, and Panthro picked up the other, smiled at him, and then punched him, too. Both rodents went flying.

"You rats make me sick," Pumyra snarled at the white rat, who cowered at her feet. She descended on him in righteous fury, hitting him again and again, until blood spurted out of his twitchy pink nose and coated her knuckles.

Lion-O grabbed her from behind. "Pumyra, enough!"

In a move too fast for Felline to follow, the lioness broke his hold and slammed her palms into his stomach so hard that she lifted him clear off the ground. Panthro caught him, barely, accidentally knocking Felline down with an elbow. She sat in the rocks, dazed.

"Stay out of this!" Pumyra snapped unnecessarily at them. With his arms full of winded king and Felline's bleeding lip needing attention, Panthro wasn't able to intervene as she whipped a dagger from the strap on her thigh. "I am gonna make sure he _never_ touches a cat again."

She loomed over the petrified rat, whose bloodied nose was staining his cheek red. As if it could feel her fury, the lightning increased, several strikes coming so close together that the thunder boomed like the laughter of Magmel itself. She lifted the rat by his shirtfront, holding him high.

"I was only following orders!" he squeaked in terror, tiny, paw-like feet pedaling. Light glinted off the golden hoops in his overlarge ears.

"Then I'll take care of the rat who gave them, too!" Pumyra yelled.

She swung the knife forward. Lion-O sprang out of Panthro's arms and seized her wrist.

"No!" he shouted, wrapping an arm firmly around her waist. He ground his fingers into the tendons of her wrist until her paw opened and the dagger dropped to the ground. Then, he tossed her aside and stood between her and the fallen rat, arms outstretched.

He'd done something like that before. Eyes wide, Felline stared at him, remembering another time, another life, another enemy brought low.

"What is this monster's life worth to you?" Pumyra exclaimed in complete, angry bewilderment.

"In Thundera, I freed a lizard who later did the same for me," he said quietly.

Gingerly mopping up her lip, Felline pricked her ears forward. One of those lizards had helped him? She hadn't known that.

"Sometimes mercy can be an even greater weapon than the sword," he added, unfazed by Pumyra's snarling face.

After a moment, she swallowed her growl with tremendous effort. "If you were anyone but king, that rat would be dead," she announced, eyes squinted up as though she'd swallowed pickleberry juice, but her autumn-glossed lips were smiling.

"Yeah," Panthro rumbled, looking much happier now that Pumrya had returned to her senses and Felline to her feet. "Kid's got a way of using that crown to get you to do all kinds of cockamamie things."

Felline giggled, partly out of nerves, but mostly because of the hurt and offended expression that stole over Lion-O's face.

"Oh, don't gimme that look. I was joking," Panthro sighed, grinning.

Then his grin melted as Lion-O slowly raised both paws in the air, revealing the dwarfish white rat holding a long knife to his kidneys.

"Drop your weapons!" the rat ordered in his little rat voice. Blood flecked his whiskers.

"Oh," Panthro mumbled. The three of them raised their paws as well, after he relinquished his nunchaku and Felline tossed the gunblade away. It took several seconds to relieve Pumyra of all her weapons.

"Ha," Lion-O said with an unconvincing stab at humor, looking both mortified and amused, while a drop of sweat beaded up at his temple. "Maybe he didn't hear my speech."

At the command of the little white rat, whom the others addressed as _Mordax_, Felline and the others had their paws bound behind them with the same kind of EMP binders that the lizards had used. They were then marched through the camp in full view of the slaves, who watched them pass with haunted, hollow eyes. Here and there, a spark of recognition put life in their faces, but mostly, they were as dull as the rock they dug.

Although Felline searched as well as she could with a rat's blade poking her impatiently between her shoulders to keep her moving, she saw no one, aside from Mordax, with white fur. The old tom, scraggly tail tucked to his legs, raised a quivering paw as if to tug them back, but thankfully, he didn't do anything and made no sound. Thus, Mordax and the ThunderCats passed unchallenged out of the camp.

* * *

_**A/N:** So, here's a first. Just about one half of the episode, done in one update. More and more of them are getting split between scenes where Felline is part of them, and where Felline is not. It's kind of a weird experience._

_As an aside, today's word of the day is "cockamamie." I dare you._

_As a second aside, Lion-O's face when Pumyra hits on him - I laugh EVERY TIME. So funny!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Momochan77**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Ashleyjenko** (haha, it occurred to me that Felline tends to fly off the handle just as much as Pumyra does. No wonder they get along! X3), **Moonlightdeer**, and **Darwin**. To put it simply: THANK YOU._

_Ugh, well, with the weather being so crazy here (it snowed one day - a lot! - and then rained for two. Then it was snowing again today) it's no surprise that I've come down with a nasty cold. Sorry I was so late getting those reviews out, everyone. *bows* Thank you for bearing with me,_

_Anne_


	19. Having Both is a Blessing, part two

They skirted more mining operations, coming around to the side of the mountain not in a stranglehold by the massive skeleton. There, they trudged up a set of wide, golden stairs into the mountain itself, which turned out to be a lavish palace. What struck Felline strongest was the warmth and humidity that billowed out in greeting when they reached the throne room. Red curtains hung from the walls, and globe lamps picked out golden highlights in the shiny floor mural. She scuffed her toe curiously into it, noting the same stylized eye that Mordax wore on his tunic. The pictograph stared at her from every surface – draped down the tapestries, glowing on the lampshades, repeated over and over again. Felline felt like she was trapped in a kind of cage, beset by blank eyes that stripped her bare.

The rats forced the cats to line up by height at the foot of a smaller set of stairs, so that Panthro stood at one end and Felline at the other, with the two lions between them. At the top of the stairs, a throne sat below another stylized eye, and a rat sat in the throne. A rat the size of Panthro, his belly and his jowls sagging over the tightness of his belt and collar.

Smiling gleefully, little Mordax cleaned the blood off his face with his sleeve and pattered up the stairs. "Ratar-O!" he breathlessly called. "I have prisoners for –"

"Slaves belong in The Pit, you hopeless halfwit," the corpulent rat angrily interrupted in a deep, cultured voice, causing Mordax to flinch and his ears to sag.

Ratar-O's oiled whiskers hung on either side of his snout like a mustache, waggling as he spoke. He rested his chins on his paw and tapped an irritated claw against the golden metal of his throne. Yet another eye pictograph, this one a glaring red, was painted in the center of the golden forehead-protector of his blue helmet, giving the impression that he was lord of all he saw.

Felline put her ears back in disgust. He was _huge_. Even his paws, so swollen, looked more like a mole's than a rat's. Obesity among a people who were, in general, as petite as she was could only mean one thing: he was a monster among rodents, squeezing his own people dry so that he could feed his greed.

"But he had this," Mordax wheedled. He presented the Gauntlet and Sword of Omens to his king. The War Stone and the Spirit Stone gave a soft, harmonic keen in the echoing throne room.

Ratar-O's eyes widened. "Let me see that!" he commanded.

Head bowed, Mordax trotted up to the throne and offered the Gauntlet, backing away when Ratar-O took it and stood, staring hungrily down at it.

"So you're the child king of the ThunderCats," he said, raising his head. He did not smile, which somehow made his taunting worse. "A shame you have no kingdom, and an even greater shame that I missed its _tragic_ fall. What's left of your people belongs to me, and soon, the Sword of Plun-Darr will as well."

"Mumm-Ra's sword," Lion-O said softly.

"Indeed, and the fool doesn't even know it's here," Ratar-O agreed, pleased that Lion-O was playing along with his posturing so beautifully. "But long before anyone knew it was once his, it was ours."

"Looks like it didn't do you swamp-dwellers much good," Pumyra haughtily said, completely blasé about the fact that she was cuffed and at sword point.

Ratar-O gave her a singularly hateful smile. "It did, until the cats took it away.

"For generations, the rats lived off the other animals' leftovers, feeding on scraps in the swamplands, barely surviving underground. Until my ancestor, R-R-Ratilla," he trilled the r's, lending the common-as-dirt name a bit of grandeur, "made a discovery that changed our destiny forever."

Felline stared incredulously at him. He'd launched into this history lesson with apparent relish that his audience was captive, so to speak, and couldn't escape it.

"With the Sword of Plun-Darr in our possession, we were finally able to take what was rightfully ours. But the cats said we abused our newfound power. The truth was, they were unwilling to share it. Arrogantly believing that only themselves were worthy of such a weapon, they sent the wizard Jaga, with their own Sword of Omens in hand, to destroy it."

Quickly bored with his speech, Felline started at the mention of Lord Jaga. She had not known that anyone other than the king could wield the Sword.

"Ratilla fought for the fate of our people," Ratar-O went on, feigning heartbreak while his audience listened with nothing but impatience, "but Jaga's magic was too much for him. To keep the Sword out of the hands of our people, Jaga put a curse on it, and plunged it into the earth, allowing this mountain to grow over it like a scar, burying it forever."

Frowning over this piece of information, Felline couldn't help wondering how old the cleric had been when he died. Mt. Plun-Darr looked anything but new. Had his magic extended his lifespan? Was such a thing possible?

Ratar-O raised his arms, indicating the palace, the mines, the mountain – probably all of it. "Our people never recovered, but when those cats unearth it for me, I will rule as my ancestor once did."

"And we will be back at the top of the food chain," Mordax gleefully added.

Ratar-O instantly turned to him with a furious glare. He booted the malformed little rat to the very edge of his platform.

Mordax pushed himself up, betrayal plastered all over his mangy face.

"_We_?" Ratar-O sneered down at him. He straightened to his full height as if to distance himself from the dust and the rats who crawled upon it. "Remember, your place is to serve me."

Instead of groveling, which Felline had half expected, Mordax stood up, clutching his skinny arm where he'd landed on it, his tail curled up and his shoulders rigid. "I'm getting tired of your abuse," he said to the floor.

"Good! Then take it out on the cats," Ratar-O said in the same patronizing tone. "I want them dead."

Lion-O growled up at the obese rat king, but his impotence was paramount. The sulky Mordax joined the rat guards and forced Felline to her knees while Ratar-O lolled upon his throne. The faint _scrape, scrape_ of a whetstone sent shivers up the back of her neck.

"It was your mercy that got us into this," Pumyra resentfully said once they were all in position.

"And I'll get us _out_ of this," Lion-O said repressively.

The pitter-patter of little feet passed behind Felline, behind Pumyra, and paused behind Lion-O. Mordax, grimacing, raised his weapon, the whip end coiled along the handle of the miniature sickle blade at the other end.

"Maybe you should start with me," Panthro burst out, halting the blow. When Mordax looked at him, he sourly jerked his chin at Lion-O. "_He's_ gotta get us outta this."

Felline suddenly wondered if Panthro had worked out a plan. If only his paws were free . . .

Apparently of the same mind, Mordax stared suspiciously at him, scythe still raised, and then an earthquake seized the throne room in its jaws and violently shook it. Bits of the ceiling rained down like hail. First dust, then pebbles, small stones, and finally, with a _chink_ing noise, whole blocks broke free and slammed into the floor. With the instincts that had kept their species alive for so long, the nameless rats scampered away and disappeared with dual flicks of their bald tails, but Mordax remained, as did Ratar-O – until a boulder separated itself from the ceiling and landed directly on top of the rat king.

Pillars cracked and toppled, the floor bucking beneath her so erratically that Felline couldn't regain her feet with her paws bound behind her back. The throne room was tearing itself apart, going dark as the lamps were crushed and buried. All she could smell was damp earth. She whimpered in terror as each boulder struck with a _bang_ that –

..::~*~::..

"Felline? Felline, we have to leave. Get up."

She shook her head, paws fisted over her ears, knees digging into her eyes. She sat in a tangle of her skirts, her back in a corner. When Lepra grabbed her wrists and tried to pry them away, she fought back. She didn't want to hear any more, couldn't stand to hear –

"Stop crying!" Father roared from the living room, and Felline balled herself up tighter. "We both know you're faking it to get your way!"

Lepra froze, her frightened eyes dominating her small face. She started to shake. They'd reached the point of no return.

They couldn't hear what Mother said, which was part of the reason why Felline had chosen this spot. Father could be terrible if he found out she or her sister had left the house during an argument, but it was unwise to remain in the same room with him during his rages. Best to lay low and wait for Mother to apologize. If she did so quickly, then Father would have no reason to remember them at all.

There was a slam, and something broke. Lepra was breathing in quick little pants, her breath whistling in her throat. Felline threw her arms around her twin and hugged her tight. If they cried, if they made a sound, then Father would – Father would –

It was too late. The door between the living room and the hallway burst open. The girls jumped, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. Father grabbed a fistful of dress and fur. Lepra screamed. Father yanked.

Both kittens came off the floor like lumps of sticky dough, refusing to relinquish their hold of each other. It wasn't like they hadn't done this before, though. Father shook them vigorously, still holding Lepra by the scruff, and Felline bounced when she hit the rug, letting out a strangled mew.

Lepra thrust out her arms, shrieking, her glazed amber eyes begging for Felline not to abandon her as Father spun on his heel and marched back into the living room, holding her as if she was a smelly bag of garbage. Felline scrambled after them, her claws snagging on her father's trouser legs.

"You see this?" Father bellowed, shoving the sobbing Lepra in her mother's sagging, gaunt face, ignoring how Felline continued to claw at his leg, begging him to return her sister. It always amazed her that he could make himself heard over all their noise. He used what he called his "battlefield voice" and shouted, "Why don't you leave, then, and take this with you so she can grow up to be a slut like you!"

Mother's beaten expression didn't change, even when her screeching daughter sailed within an inch of her nose. She stood there like a sponge while Father shouted himself hoarse, soaking up his abuse, her beautiful hair hanging limp and unwashed around her face.

..::~*~::..

_Hopeless halfwit. Remember, your place is to serve me_.

There was something painfully familiar about that. Insults to break her down. Orders to fill her up so that every sense of self was pushed out. She knew all about that.

_You'd better not nag that lad, understand? You may not attract another one__._

It was incredible how much words could hurt.

_Ratar-O booted the malformed little rat to the very edge of his platform__._

_Easily, Snow swatted her aside and she collided with the pantry door__._

The strong had so many choices in life. They could protect the small and weak, or they could dominate them. Luck had given her a chance on the night Thundera fell. Better yet, it had given her freedom. What had it given this stunted, cringing rodent?

She was a cat, and he was a rat, yet Felline realized that she felt sorry for Mordax.

..::~*~::..

Blinded by tears, Felline kept screaming her sister's name. Father often said things like that, but it was always Lepra he threatened Mother with. Telling her to leave, telling her to take Lepra away. Always trying to separate them, always forgetting about Felline.

Father finally seemed to feel her there. He glanced down, teeth clenched in fury.

He kicked out, hard, catching her in the side. She slammed into the wall, gagging and sobbing over the pain that blossomed like fire, that throbbed and tasted of acid. It hurt so badly that she couldn't get up.

A strong paw found hers. Felline opened streaming eyes a fraction. Mother was there. Mother had come out of her daze, her eyes – Lepra's eyes – wide and frightened as she bent to gather up her daughter –

Father's fist swung out, knocking her flat across the couch.

Mother snarled at him, finding her voice –

..::~*~::..

"Well? Kill him, you dolt!"

A moan slipped between Felline's clenched teeth. Oh, whiskers, how could she have forgotten that incident? Somehow, she must have blocked out certain memories of her childhood, everything that had to do with Snow's temper. She hadn't even known selective memory loss was possible. _Today is just full of revelations, isn't it_? she thought acerbically. His rages must have tapered off – maybe he'd gotten help, tried to be a better husband so Mother wouldn't actually leave –

So wrapped up in the memory and disoriented by the pain that made her moan weakly again, it took Felline a moment to realize that it hadn't been her mother shouting. She cracked open streaming eyes.

Lion-O and Ratar-O faced each other across the demolished throne room, now open to the stormy night sky. Mordax stood behind Lion-O, who was still unarmed, with his scythe raised. Felline held her breath, wondering if Lion-O was going to get out of this one, amazed that Ratar-O had avoided dying beneath that boulder. She could have sworn it had buried him, but then, he was a rat.

Mordax blinked his visible eye. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered the scythe.

"What are you waiting for?" Ratar-O blustered.

"I'm trying to figure out why this cat treated me better than you do," Mordax said quietly. Giving Ratar-O a chance, just this once chance to explain, to change, to prove him wrong.

"Kill him!" the king of rats barked.

The scythe clanked on the ground. "Kill him yourself," Mordax frostily told him.

He turned to leave, but paused as something at his feet caught his attention. Felline couldn't move, pinned by a chunk of rock bigger than she was that seemed to have lodged in the soft part of her body between her ribcage and her left hip. It felt like a piece of her hipbone might have broken. Every time she tried to tug her left arm free, waves of nausea rolled over her. She couldn't see what the thing was until Mordax kicked it. The Gauntlet flipped over and plonked down right next to Lion-O, who flashed an appreciative smirk over his shoulder. Giggling squeakily, the little white rat backed up, turned, and escaped through a breach in the wall. Luck had given him a chance, and he'd seized it with both paws.

* * *

_**A/N:** I just have to say this. It's called Mt. Plun-Darr. How could he NOT know it was there?! *foams at mouth*_

_There are a surprising number of inconsistencies in this episode, actually. Story-wise and animation-direction-wise. I added to them when I made Cheetara and Tygra aware of the Sword's curse before they left to fetch it, but since we don't see them on their journey I figured it wouldn't matter. My hope is that if no one noticed any inconsistencies in the last two updates, then I did my job well. :3_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Momochan77**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Ashleyjenko** (Always glad to help brighten someone's day! :3), **Mooncloudpanther**, **Moonlightdeer**, and **Anonymous Pickle** (Wow, welcome! Thank you so much for such a thoughtful and glowing review! You just made my entire day!). Thank you all so, so much!_

_Until next time,_

_Anne_


	20. Having Both is a Blessing, part three

Lion-O wasted no time returning the Gauntlet to his paw and drawing the Sword of Omens. He darted forward to attack and was repelled. Growling deep in his throat, he tried again, with similar results. Ratar-O was simply too big, and apparently no stranger to fighting.

With a start, Felline realized that Lion-O was alone. Which meant that Panthro and Pumyra were still . . . What? Trapped, like her? Unconscious? _Dead_?

The surge of fear for her friends gave her the strength to power through the pain and the nausea, which both lessened when she freed her arm and discovered that one cuff of the binders had broken, leaving the device dangling from her wrist. The only reason she hadn't been crushed entirely flat was the flared top of the pillar. Kicking and squirming, she inched her way out from under it, her gasps and cries unheard in the blue blasts of sorcery shooting through the room. She had to get out, had to help her friends before they were caught up in the battle, unable to defend themselves. _Pumyra_ – _Panthro_ –

"Lion-O!" she screamed. Unarmed, he went tumbling by her. The Sword struck the ground somewhere out of sight.

With a last spine-contorting twist, she finally managed to tear herself out of her prison and sort of ran, sort of flopped to where he had come to rest, her loosened hair cascading around them in waves of starlight.

Ratar-O grinned, showing off every one of his sharp rodent teeth when he saw them lying there, apparently defenseless. He put his twin swords together, crossing them, one bearing a blue eye at the hilt and the other a red. They glowed, and the blue magic began swirling like water down a drain. Lion-O tucked Felline into the curve of his body and threw up the Gauntlet just as Ratar-O attacked. The Spirit Stone flared to life, encasing them in a protective sphere of pink light. Sorcerous wind lashed them both, but did not harm them. Ratar-O's blue magic battered against the shield until Lion-O made a motion with his Gauntleted arm like he was flinging something away. "_Ha_!"

The blue magic rebounded upon its caster and exploded. Clothes and fur smoking, Ratar-O was punted backward. He impacted the ruins of his throne and stirred feebly atop the mess, groaning.

Felline thought that was the end of him, but by the time she and Lion-O stood up, leaning into each other like cards in a card house, the corpulent rat king had disappeared.

"Forget about him," Lion-O said hoarsely, lifting her arm so he could remove the remaining shackle. He massaged her wrist with his thumb, his eyes roving over Pumyra and Panthro, who were both unconscious. "Let's get them out."

Small and injured, Felline couldn't do much to help when it came to shifting the dense blocks of stone, but once they coaxed Panthro around and got the cuffs off, he used his new arms to dig himself out. While she searched out the Sword of Omens, he and Lion-O revealed the half-buried Pumyra and her bleeding ankle.

"What happened?" Pumyra asked fuzzily.

While Lion-O recounted Mordax's change of allegiance, Felline limped back, timidly hugging the heavy Sword, which had not returned to its compact state. It felt hot in her paws, thrumming like a mother's purr, numbing the pain in her hip. She was both glad and forlorn when Lion-O reclaimed his birthright and sheathed it.

"We need to get out of here in case another quake hits," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Panthro said. "Might not be so lucky next time."

"Then let's go," Lion-O said.

Pumyra could not walk on her own, although of course she said nothing about it. Matter-of-factly, Lion-O crouched next to her, pulled her arm behind his neck, and smiled at her. "Told you I'd get us outta this."

"Perhaps there is room for mercy in our struggle," she acknowledged.

Gently, he helped her upright. She returned his smile. When she wasn't snarling, a feminine softness radiated from her. She was achingly beautiful in that moment.

"I think we have another convert," Felline said up to Panthro, who grinned down at her.

"Yeah. 'Cause we're all plumb crazy," he said.

Word of Ratar-O's defeat seemed to have spread as fast as disease through the mining camp, which had emptied of rats much as meeces flee a burning barn. Picking their way through the palace ruins, Felline and the others descended into the quarry to find several hundred cats – so few, far too few – milling around in a confused, frightened clowder. When they caught sight of Lion-O, a great cacophony went up. Some cats cheered, and some succumbed to tears of joy, while others couldn't contain their anger, shouting insults at the king who had abandoned them.

One thing could be said for Lion-O: Crowds did not intimidate him. Panthro took Pumyra's arm from his shoulders so that he could stand alone and tall where everyone could see him. Felline also gave him room, not wanting to share his spotlight. He held up his paws for silence. His people gave it to him grudgingly, even those happy to see him alive, too bewildered by the suddenness with which the rats had vanished to keep quiet.

"Tonight," Lion-O said, and then, with an eye on the stormy sky, a strip of which near the horizon blushed faintly with dawn, he corrected himself while the last of the voices died away. "No. _Today_, you are all free. You have waited far longer than I had any right to expect, endured far more than I could ever have asked of you in good conscience. I'm sorry."

He paused, probably feeling the weight of every pair of eyes locked on him right at that moment. Suffering eyes, eyes frightened of hope, but hoping all the same. Felline smiled, proud to follow him, he who wasn't going to give excuses or reasons. He wasn't going to ask for forgiveness. He couldn't change what had already happened, but he was going to take responsibility for what would from then on out.

His gaze swept the throng, catching here and there on individual faces. Felline wondered what he saw in them.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, grief changing the tenor of his voice. Like them all, he'd suffered losses in this war. _Child king_, Ratar-O had called him, which, in a way that had nothing to do with age, was true; Queen Leona and King Claudus had left Lion-O too soon. As if just putting this fact together, the residual anger in his audience melted away like the morning stars.

"We are not gone," he called in the strengthening, bilious light. "We have survived, and we will endure. What I ask of you now is that you do not give up hope. An old friend once told me, 'Having somewhere to go is home. Having someone to love is family. Having both is a blessing.'"

Felline smiled to herself, repeating the words over in her mind. She could hazard a pretty good guess who that old friend had been.

"Cherish those who stand beside you, because it's time to go home!" he yelled.

At the cheer that rose like a baby avian learning to fly beneath the sullen gray skies, King Lion-O stepped forward, paws outstretched, and removed the binders from the first cat who tottered toward him.

..::~*~::..

Felline stayed near Lion-O for a couple of hours, working side by side with her king to remove binders, and to console and empower the newly freed slaves. She offered water and food, while all Lion-O had to do was allow them to lay paws on him as if nothing else could prove that they were really free.

After resting her leg, Pumyra drifted off on her own, returning at some point with their limited and meager supplies from the ThunderTank so that she could attend to those who needed medical attention. She helped bandage the oozing wheals decorating the wrists of an exhausted woman.

"You are a lifesaver," Felline gratefully said. She shook back her hair, which kept falling over her shoulders in thick skeins that tangled with her arms, and shoved her goggles onto her head, using the strap as a headband. She hadn't been able to salvage the hair clips that must have broken during the quake. "Where did you learn how to do this?"

A corner of Pumyra's mouth twitched, but her eyebrows drew down in a glower as if she was too embarrassed to let her pleasure at the compliment show. "I was a corpsman. A combat medic," she explained, her voice rough but her paws gentle, and the woman thanked her with teary eyes. Pumyra smiled at her and then stood, a bit unsteadily on her bandaged leg, her eyes narrowing as she studied the growing pile of binders to which Felline added a pair. Her posture didn't invite further questions.

"Well, you did it," Felline said to change the subject, unsure of what the other woman was thinking.

"What?" Pumyra seemed to come back from a long distance.

"You earned your freedom, just like you said you would. And now you've granted them theirs." She gestured to the crowd, which had naturally split in two – those freed, desperately seeking out friends and loved ones, and those still waiting to be freed.

"No." Pumyra shook her magnificent head, and then clapped a paw on Felline's shoulder. "We all did. Thank you."

Felline felt her cheeks warm, but she returned Pumyra's grin. She'd never met anyone quite like her.

"The question now is, what will we do with them?" Pumyra wondered aloud, gazing on the milling crowd.

"Lion-O will think of something," Felline said confidently.

"A cockamamie scheme?" Pumyra suggested.

"Probably."

They giggled. Then, "We'd better go help," Pumyra said as a sobbing woman threw herself on a flustered Lion-O. She hesitated, however, frowning at Felline. "Wait. Didn't you have a rifle?"

"Oh!" Her paw went to her thigh holster. "I forgot. And Panthro's nunchaku. I wonder if they're still over by the tents." Her heart sank. What if the rats had absconded with them?

"You go," Pumyra said. "We've got things handled here."

"All right, thanks."

Felline hurried off, wincing as the pain in her hip reacquainted itself with her. She lightly pressed on it. Beneath her probing finger, what felt like a coin-sized chip of bone slid back and forth. _Well, that's really going to start hurting soon_, she thought cheerfully. She was grateful the breakage hadn't been greater. It would heal on its own.

She skied down a short incline in a puff of gray dust, looking around hopefully, and there were their weapons, gleaming in the renewed lightning, propped against the side of a tent.

Although she painstakingly checked over the gunblade, Felline found no damage and slipped it back into its holster with a relieved sigh. How strange, that she should feel so much better with it there, when once she'd been too scared to touch it. What a silly, sheltered little girl she'd been. She gathered up Panthro's red and blue nunchaku and turned to go.

A shiver worked its way down her back.

Felline hesitated. She was all alone, and it was eerily quiet. When she heard someone moving with difficulty up the path, she paused to listen, eyes wide and ears swiveling. It could be rats, scavengers who had lagged behind. Felline crouched, clutching Panthro's heavy weapons to her chest, poised to run.

Three cats trudged into view, a tall tom with a frail woman tucked to his side, her head bowed into his chest so that they proceeded in a sort of sideways shuffle, and a second, shorter tom, hobbling along with the aid of a makeshift crutch while one of his legs dragged uselessly behind him. His long tail swept a shower of stones from the path with every lurching step.

Felline gasped, and the limping tom raised his head.

His hood slipped sideways, exposing one large ear and a white-furred face that had gone gray and haggard. His whiskers, once so sleekly groomed, were broken and crinkled on one side, and on the other had gone into tight little curls as if they'd been held too close to something hot. But his eyes, large, round, and blue as glacial ice, were as alert as ever.

"Felline?" he asked in a voice as dry as the dust beneath their feet.

Forgotten was her injury. Forgotten were her friends. Forgotten were the horrible memories – or had they been dreams? – that had tormented her with the screams of her sister. It was Snow, it was really him, and he was alive. For that one moment, nothing else mattered. She hurtled down the path, one end of Panthro's nunchaku clanking wildly behind her, and threw herself into her father's arms.

"You're alive! Thank the Great Sky Cat, I never dreamed you would have been spared," Snow groaned, his claws snarling in her loose hair. "My daughter. You're alive."

"Yes," she said, laughing and sniffling at the same time. She smiled when one large paw came up to caress her cheek. "I escaped the city. I was lucky."

"Lepra?" he asked, his face pained.

The happiness left again, draining like rain into soil, and she shook her head.

Snow closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Felline was simultaneously shocked and repulsed to see them swimming in tears. Her father, he who loomed in her memory as a cat of strength, of control both of himself and those around him, and of brutality – she remembered that about him now, like shards of ice that pierced her insides – for him to show weakness in front of her, it disgusted her. She tried to banish the unexpected feeling when he said, "When I think of how I last saw her, what I said, what I –"

He choked up, and then squared his shoulders as if taking on the physical weight of his crime, "What I _did_, I am sorry she fell there, but _you_ are here. I have not lost you, too. It's more than I deserve."

It was the first time he had ever placed more value on her than on her sister. He embraced her again as if unwilling to let her go. This time, however, she was not blinded by instinctual happiness, and she pushed herself gently out of his arms.

"Mother?" she asked, even though she was terrified of the answer.

It was Snow's turn to shake his head. "She was here," he said gruffly. His eyes glittered with more than tears. They shone maliciously. "Her and that tom of hers. He convinced her to run. They didn't make it." Then the malice was gone, replaced by wetness that carved tracks down his dirty face. He thumped his lame leg. "I tried to stop them. Then I tried to stop the rats from going after them. You can see what that got me. I loved her, Felline. You have to believe me."

"I do," she said, but she took another step back. How dare Snow turn to her for comfort? Who was the parent here, him, or her? Her mother was dead. The renewed grief leached her energy, made her long for someone to tell her everything was going to be all right. She flicked her ears as if she could shoo away the things he'd said, as if his words were nothing more than flies, troublesome but easily ignored.

"You have to come with me," she said, trying not to see the hurt that flashed across his grayed, sagging face. She glanced at the other two cats as she spoke. "It's really not safe here. We have a medic, and we can –"

What they could do, she never said, for she'd just caught the pale gray eyes of the younger tom. He smiled crookedly at her, almost questioningly, as if wondering when she was going to get the joke. Only it wasn't a joke. It was pain and joy and confusion all jumbled together.

"So," Bastien said teasingly, and the smile grew, "do you come here often?"

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello, Dear Readers! Did you miss me? :3_

_And the chapter title is explained here - it's a quote by Donna Hedges. Cheap of me to use it, yeah, but there you are._

_I have had this scene ready to go since the very beginning. It feels so good to finally have it published!_

_Also, I did some doodling earlier this month and came up with some amateurish sketches of Felline. Follow the new link on my profile! There are two in my devart gallery._

_Lastly, have you checked out the Bonus Theater lately? "Matchmakers" went up a little while ago (some Wily Twin humor), and the first two parts of the trilogy giftfic for The Night Whisperer (who came up with a very romantic prompt unrelated to "The Rebels") are up. Have a read, let me know what you think! :3 Pretty please?_

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Ashleyjenko** (I'm so glad you liked Felline time!), **Momochan77**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Mooncloudpanther**, **Darwin**, **Anonymous Pickle** (Oh, gosh, how I've wished I could send you a PM! I absolutely loved your review, but only because I honestly, truthfully, swear-to-the-moon never once thought to myself that Felline was an abuse victim. What you said really opened up my eyes to my own writing, how weird is that?! All of that nastiness, that all came about as I was developing Snow, learning who he was, and realizing that he's really a broken individual. What I've been doing for Felline is simply dealing with his sickness - or not, as the case is. I can't tell you how much I feel like I've escaped a bullet here! But I am grateful and glad that my portrayal of their icky relationship and its fallout is realistically done. Nothing could possibly have messed this up worse than doing that part wrong, once I decided to run with it. Thank you. For all of it.), **Blacktiger93** (welcome back, you! Good to see you!), **Kittylover123** (thank you for the encouragement! :3), and **FFReader** (aw, thank you so much!). You guys know I couldn't do this without'cha. X3_

_Ever Yours,_

_Anne_


	21. Having Both is a Blessing, part four

Felline stared at him, too surprised to laugh. The months of hard labor, harsh weather, and malnutrition had taken their toll on him. He was thinner than before, his black mane grown out and hanging lank around his face. His attitude hadn't changed any, however, for he laughed merrily at her flabbergasted expression.

"How?" she asked at last. "How did you make it out of there?"

"Well." Bastien glanced down at the calico woman in his arms, who, Felline could see, would not be standing without his support. "Once the clerics fell, the wall went, and we were cut off from both sides. Commander Snow –"

"Just Snow," Snow interjected with a growl. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Bastien grinned and went right on talking. "Commander Snow organized a last charge. We were going to try to take out as many as we could before they mowed us down. But the lizards had orders to capture, not eradicate. Any of us still on our feet were taken. Anyone not . . ."

"Shot where they lay," Snow grimly finished when Bastien hesitated.

The woman retreated into Bastien's chest, her slender shoulders shaking with noiseless sobs.

"What about you?" Bastien asked over her head, patting her tangled, tri-color hair as best he could with his wrists shackled. "You look . . . good."

Felline glanced down at herself. She was wearing a stolen pair of goggles, a dog's clothes, and a shiny, no-nonsense rifle strapped to her thigh. Compared to these three, she was as healthy as a mount. Months on the road had toughened her, in spite of her going long days without enough to eat. She'd kept her freedom at the cost of many lives, and had learned more about Third Earth than she ever would have dreamed. Her journey had been hard, and it wasn't over yet. "That is a really long story, I'm afraid," she said ruefully.

"Felline, what are those?" Snow sharply asked.

"These?" She held up Panthro's nunchaku. The snarling cat heads reflected the distant lightning. "Exactly what you think they are, and I need to return them," she said. "Lion-O survived, Father. And Prince Tygra, and General Panthro. There are others, too. That's who I've been traveling with all this time."

She tucked the nunchaku into her belt, figuring that the fastest way to get back to her friends was to help the woman so that Bastien could help her father. "The first thing we need to do is get those binders off. May I?"

She held out her paws. The woman, who appeared to be the same age as her, looked at her out of feverish green eyes, and then silently appealed to Bastien. He nodded encouragingly at her.

"Hi," Felline said softly, smiling as kindly as she could. "What's your name?"

"Cleo," the woman whispered. An orange spot circled one of her eyes, a black one the other. Her lips, however, were as white and bloodless as her cheeks.

"It's going to be okay, Cleo," Felline told her. The binders jingled when they hit the rocks at their feet.

"If you'll give me your arm, Commander," Bastien said after Felline helped him free his hands.

"Snow," Snow snapped.

"You'll always be Commander to me, Commander," was the laughing reply.

Felline smiled to herself. She'd forgotten that Bastien was like that. As Lion-O had done for Pumyra, she pulled Cleo's arm across her shoulders, taking most of the taller woman's weight. Bastien braced Snow, and the four of them headed at a slow shuffle toward the hill on the outskirts of the gulag, but Cleo fainted before they reached true freedom. Felline's shout for help brought Pumyra at a jog, her limp barely noticeable.

Pumyra's eyes first widened and then narrowed. All business, she knelt at Felline's side. She peeled back Cleo's eyelid, peered into the glazed eye, made a quick pass over her mouth and nose to check her breathing, and then pressed her fingers to her throat. She waited, and then barked at Panthro, "We need to get her into the Tank."

"Yes, ma'am," he rumbled. He scooped up Cleo and bore her away. Pumyra went with him.

Bastien's eyes followed them, but he made no move to do the same. Felline led him and her father to the enormous pile of binders. Lion-O had just released the old tom they'd first helped, who stood there, rubbing his wrists.

"Thank you, my king," he said.

"Ratar-O fled back underground. You'll be safe in the old settlement just outside the ruins of Thundera," Lion-O told him. They'd decided this earlier. With their departure, Thundera had lain abandoned by all; the lizards had what they'd come for. There was no reason for any other animals to go near such a cursed, defiled place. From the most desirable to barely inhabitable: Thundera was the only home left to the cats of Third Earth.

"Thank you," the old tom repeated with a reverent smile. He turned and followed the trail of cats already heading for the desert and the long trek home.

"Think they'll be all right?" Felline asked, coming up next to him. The line wasn't moving very fast.

"They'll be fine. We've looted this place of as much as they can carry. I see no reason to give the rats a helping paw if they ever come back here," he said savagely.

"A sound decision," Snow said.

Lion-O turned to him, a question in his complicated blue eyes. "Can't say I've heard that recently," he said, but without his usual rancor. "I hope you're right."

Even though she was sure Lion-O couldn't mistake him for anyone else, Felline introduced her father to him.

His eyes brightened. "I can't tell you how glad I am that we've found you alive, Commander."

"Just Snow," Snow said, for the third time, but he did take Lion-O's paw. "The lad and I are little better than deserters of your army."

"I hardly think that's your fault," Lion-O said, but Snow shook his head.

"We failed in our duty. Thundera fell, and so did most of our people. I no longer deserve my rank."

"Don't listen to him, Your Majesty," Bastien said. With two whole legs, he stood much taller than the grizzled snow leopard, and his voice was stronger, too. He demanded attention, and Lion-O gave it to him.

"You are?"

"Bastien, sire. Without the Commander, more of us would have been lost here. He stood up for us when no one else could. He kept us organized, kept us together, kept us believing in you. We couldn't have lasted this long without him."

"That's enough, now," Snow muttered. He leaned weakly on his crutch, fur matted with filth, ears lopsided, whiskers damaged beyond repair.

Lion-O gripped his arm. "It appears I owe you my thanks and more, Commander."

"Your Majesty." Snow bowed his head respectfully, but Felline uncomfortably realized that his eyes were swimming again.

She looked at the ground, confused. How much he'd changed! Was he even really her father anymore? Here was another version of him, the tom who had borne the wrath of rats to protect the last of their dead king's people, sacrificing his own well-being for everyone else's. Why, then, hadn't he done the same for his wife and daughters? What had made him turn rat on them, when he was so obviously a hero to Bastien and the others? Who _was_ he?

"We should go," Snow said at last. He turned to hobble away. "Felline, come along."

Before Felline could recover from her surprise – he expected her to leave Lion-O and the others, to jump and stick to his heels as if she was just a cub? – Bastien frowned at his broad back. "How far do you think you're gonna get on that leg, Commander? You need to rest."

"Don't coddle me."

"I'm not coddling you."

"Then keep your opinions to yourself."

"How is this an opinion?"

They were arguing like father and son. Felline listened with increasing incredulity. She'd never dreamed that Bastien and Snow would become so close. Jealousy gnawed at her while they bickered, but she didn't understand it. Jealousy of what? They were close because of what they'd been through together – she didn't wish she'd been brought here as a slave, too, just so she could have been part of . . . whatever this was.

"He's right, Father. It's more than a day to Dog City on foot," she said, finding her tongue.

At the scuff of gravel, she glanced toward the ThunderTank, out of sight behind a dune, and saw Panthro returning. He was alone. Bastien noticed him too, and his face changed. Felline couldn't put a name to his expression, only that it was intense.

Bastien turned back to Snow. "Besides, it wasn't you I was worried about. We can't leave Cleo by herself. It would kill her," he said.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Snow grudgingly asked.

"Stay with us. Pumyra says your friend is in no shape to make the journey," Panthro said in the way he had that said the matter was closed. He looked down at Lion-O, ready to make an official report. "That's every cat accounted for except for Tygra and Cheetara. What if they couldn't find the Sword?" He crossed his arms as though that could hide his obvious worry.

"As if there was any doubt," Tygra smugly called from behind, surprising them all.

Felline turned. Together, Cheetara and Tygra carefully carried their booty down the trail and then laid it on the ground. The stormy light caressed it where it lay, looking like a puddle of oil, toxic and iridescent. Felline gawked at the monstrosity, her skin crawling.

The Gauntlet of Plun-Darr dwarfed the Gauntlet of Omens much like Ratar-O had done to Mordax. It was huge and black, shining with symmetrical red designs, shaped like the long, horned skull of some reptilian beast. The Sword of Plun-Darr fit inside it the same way the Sword of Omens and its partner did, hinting at a common creator. The gaping hole in them was clearly where the War Stone was meant to go. The black Sword sang as it lay there, mocking them as if it knew they could not hide it from its master forever.

"This isn't a weapon for cats to wield," Cheetara told them, her face suggesting that merely looking at it was painful for her. "We should take it to the Tower of Omens before Mumm-Ra learns it's been unearthed."

"It's too late for that," Panthro growled. He pointed with a metal claw, indicating the gray desert beneath the continuously swirling clouds. There, just before the horizon, violent lightning strikes illuminated an army of misshapen figures eating up the miles with long, deliberate strides.

Warmechs, Felline realized with a chill, their headlights glowing faintly green through the gloom. A hundred warmechs, maybe more, trundling straight for them, flanked by hovercraft with an entire army of lizards marching along at their feet.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello, friends! Guess what. It's my birthday! I thought giving myself the gift of updating this poor, neglected story._

_Reviewer Thanks! Of course, I could never forget you guys! **Ashleyjenko** (If I ever do a Lion-O POV, I can promise it'll be as a Bonus Theater - it's a good idea to step outside Felline's POV every once in a while, isn't it? :3), **Heart of the Demons**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Momochan77**, **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Flaming Belladonna** (twice! Welcome to the madness!), **Mooncloudpanther**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Darwin**, **Justchillin15** (okay! X3), **Anonymous Pickle**, **Blacktiger93** (I am NEVER giving up on this story, you have my most solemn promise. I took a break this summer to get some other aspects of my life in order. I can't promise a quick update schedule, but I'm goin' all the way, baby. X3 Thanks for sticking by me), **WyldClaw** (I know you're still back in "The Exiles" and may never see this, but - thanks), **Guest** (Aw, no username at all? Oh, well. Your question: Yes, Pumyra is a puma. Where I live, we call them mountain lions. Same cat, different name. :3 There's a reason I've chosen to use my local dialect. I hope you stick around to find out why!), **Lady Aurora Nocturne**, **Guest** (number two! Hee. :3), **MagiLover13**, **rkanti15** (welcome to the story! Thank you so much for reviewing! Here's another one, just for you :3), **Kirsty** (welcome, thank you, but - why on wattpad?), and **Medusalith Amaquelin**. So, I know a couple of you have gone through name changes since my last update, but I simply copy and paste usernames out of the review email alerts. Sorry if I'm still stuck in the past!_

_Today is probably going to be kind of crazy (it's my BIRTHDAY! WHEE!), but I promise I'll get those return reviews out as soon as I can. Never fear!_

_All my love,_

_An extremely exciteable Anne_


	22. Gemini, part one

The storm truly had a grip on the desert now. The ThunderCats worked quickly beneath the violent, nonstop lightning strikes. A torn-down tent served as a crude wrapping for the Sword of Plun-Darr, which Lion-O strapped to his back with discarded leather belts. Pumyra rejoined them while they stood watching Mumm-Ra's forces, trying to plan their next move. The army had halted its advance and arrayed itself across the rocky ground. It waited there in the dim daylight, apparently in no hurry to engage them. Their superior numbers said enough.

"How could they have found us?" Lion-O burst out, voicing the question on everyone's mind.

"Too late to worry about that now," Panthro said. He lowered his spyglass. "But if we move fast, we might be able to slip past them using the same trail as the cat slaves."

"Are you _crazy_?" Pumyra exclaimed. "Do you wanna bring Mumm-Ra right to them? We didn't free our people just to see them slaughtered!"

"I agree," Felline said. She curled her tail, listening to the ripple of static in her fur. "It wouldn't be too hard for them to find our trail. Several hundred animals left this place, on foot, and we have the tank. They'd have to be blind not to realize where we've gone."

"Do you have a better plan?" Lion-O challenged them.

"If it's the Sword of Plun-Darr and Gauntlet he's after, let's use them to draw his forces into the mines," Pumyra immediately said.

"Into the mines?" Felline frowned. "I suppose, if we only need to slow them down, that could work."

Pumyra flashed her a grateful look from her heavy-lashed, autumn-colored eyes, and then resumed the attack. "I know its tunnel system better than anyone. It'll give the slaves time to escape."

"They'll have to pass through Dog City," Felline said. "Dobo will know we sent them. He could help hide them, if nothing else."

Panthro was having none of it. "If we're caught, Mumm-Ra will have everything he needs to rule Third Earth," he said.

"Then let's not get caught," Pumyra said seriously. She stalked up to Lion-O. "I know it's dangerous, but you owe it to your people, _Your Majesty_."

Cheetara, Tygra, Bastien, and Snow remained silent. The heavy atmosphere, the long, sleepless night, the evil that seemed to have soaked the very ground, oppressed them all to such a degree that, for once, the only antagonism resided in Pumyra. Nothing, it seemed, could quench her fire. There she was, still needling Lion-O for something he couldn't change. No one could change the past, and Felline thought her wrong for continually throwing it in his face.

Unthinkingly, she stepped forward to speak, and then fell to one knee as pain erupted in her hip. Her chipped pelvic bone throbbed, apparently having had enough of her being on her feet. Both Lion-O and Pumyra started for her, arms outstretched, but Bastien got there first. He helped her up.

That was all he did. He didn't say anything to her, and didn't hold onto her longer than necessary, but Lion-O stared fixedly at him as if just then remembering where he'd heard that name before.

_"Who's Bastien?"_

_"He was a city guard." Then, deciding she may as well be honest, she added, "He was my boyfriend."_

A conversation from half a lifetime ago, a better time, when she and Lion-O had almost reached an understanding.

"You're hurt," Pumyra said, bringing Felline back to the present.

"Yeah. Pillar fell on me," she muttered. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"It's fine, Pumyra."

"You can't even stand! How do you expect to get anywhere like that?"

"Don't coddle me!" Felline burst out, surprising herself with her own vehemence.

Pumyra's glossed lips tightened.

"Just like the Commander," Bastien said under his breath, and grinned unapologetically when father and daughter glared at him. "You and those big ears of yours."

"You need to rest," Pumyra said firmly, ignoring him.

Lion-O lowered his eyes, obviously thinking hard. Felline wondered uneasily what conclusions he was coming to about Bastien, the freed slaves, the army, and the shrouded thing of evil strapped to his back. Now that it had been brought back aboveground, the ThunderCats were the only thing standing between it and the master it had waited centuries to see again. He took a deep breath and then let it out gustily. "Panthro, you, Tygra, and Cheetara get Felline and the others to the tank. Pumyra and I will catch up after we lose them in the mines."

Cheetara and Tygra exchanged a troubled look. Panthro's scowl deepened.

"Are you sure you wanna risk this?" he rumbled. "I don't want your emotions to –"

"I'm sure," Lion-O angrily cut him off, and Panthro slowly backed down.

Lion-O looked at Pumyra, and she looked at him. They needed no words. Together, the two lions nodded at each other and then took off, jumping to the edge of the slope that led back to the mine. They vanished over the lip in a cloud of scree.

"Why does it feel like letting them go back in there was a mistake?" Tygra muttered to no one in particular.

"Come on," Panthro said once they had gone. "We'd better be ready when they get back."

When he offered Felline an elbow, she leaned wearily into him. Panthro was solid and safe, unlike the landmine that was Bastien. The pain was a constant pinch that she felt from her knee to her waist with every pulse of her heart. Whatever grace the Sword had granted her had faded, perhaps because of the physical distance between her and its master, or maybe the emotional one.

She'd seen the difference in his eyes when he looked at Pumyra, the way that he instinctively deferred to her. She'd heard it in his voice, the way he spoke to Pumyra as if desperate to win her over. There was a new closeness that hadn't been there before, one that didn't leave room for anyone else. Least of all Felline. Like called to like, she supposed. Lion to lioness, and vice versa.

She glanced at Bastien, who was helping her irritable father limp along. Snow's bad leg left a crooked trail in the sand, but he plowed stubbornly on. Strange that Pumyra had not mentioned what a big part Snow had to play in keeping their people alive. But then, she had said that they weren't allowed to socialize much. She'd known of Snow, but maybe had not been in the mines long enough to need his help.

Felline sighed, her gaze straying again to Bastien. She'd spent more time missing the guard with the nice face than she'd actually known him. Her feelings for him were memories only. What if those feelings rekindled? Did she want them to? It could happen, falling in love with someone pleasant. Or someone so intense that it was impossible to ignore him. Or her. Like Pumyra.

Lepra. Cheetara. Pumyra. Women as bright and warm as the first three seasons, and everything Felline, personification of winter, was not. Lion-O, against every rational thought, was already yielding to a preference that would take him out of Felline's reach forever. Leaving her alone. Again.

She was afraid to allow her feelings for Bastien to come back. Doing so would prove to Lion-O that _someone_ wanted her, even if Lion-O didn't, which wasn't fair. Not to herself, and not to Bastien. Besides, she had no idea how Bastien felt about her now. He'd believed her dead, after all. Maybe he had mourned her and moved on like she had. She needed time to think about everything that had happened.

Fortunately, the improved ThunderTank gave them lots of room to stay apart. Tense and worried, the ThunderCats dispersed to settle their guests in, to find sleep, to prepare for a getaway and a possible battle. Felline, with a cold pack pressed to her hip, realized that she'd never returned Panthro's nunchaku to him. She decided she could rest as easily in the cockpit as she could in the bunks with Cleo and Cheetara. She made her slow, pained way to the front of the tank in search of the general, but when she awkwardly climbed through the hatch, she found the cockpit empty.

He must have gone to take a munitions inventory, she thought ruefully. Not relishing the thought of clambering all the way back the way she'd come, she levered herself into the pilot's seat and leaned back with a sigh. The cold helped the swelling in her hip, but Pumyra was right – she needed to stop moving around and get some rest.

Well, no reason she couldn't do a little surveillance while she was there. Felline called up feeds from the outer cameras, and then repositioned the cameras themselves. She trained some of them on the mountain, others on the desert. Mt. Plun-Darr glittered redly on the screen, the wing membranes of the massive skeleton flapping in the rising wind.

She tried to think of anything other than Lion-O and settled on the Sword of Plun-Darr. Had it been named for the mountain, or the mountain for its buried secret? What made Plun-Darr's sword so evil when the Sword of Omens could only be used by good? How could two swords, anathema to one another, be so similar in design?

Felline tapped a claw on the console. Lion-O knew the answer, she was sure of it. He wouldn't talk about the things he learned in the Book of Omens, however, saying only that the Sword of Plun-Darr _was_ evil, that it had taken death and destruction to create it.

Felline glanced at the Book, lying innocently in its slot, its red jewel lightless and dormant. There was no juice currently running to it, since they weren't actively seeking the next Power Stone. Felline ran her fingers over the embossed design of the cover musingly. She'd handled the Book plenty, but it had never opened for her the way it did for Lion-O. Its secrets were his alone.

So many questions. What was it that Lion-O knew about the Sword of Plun-Darr that made him decide to lead Mumm-Ra's generals on a merry chase through the mountain's guts with no one but Pumyra – a wild shot in the dark at the best of times – as a guide?

Idle curiosity became a burning desire to know. What harm could looking do? The Book of Omens didn't work for anyone but the king, after all. Felline slipped her fingers under the front cover. She tipped it open to the first blank page. The red jewel gleamed with an inner light. She had no time for anything other than a gasp of surprise, and then an electrical jolt struck her hard enough to knock her onto the floor. Everything dissolved in a buzzing white haze.

* * *

_**A/N:** It's been . . . ages. Is there anyone left?_

_Writer's block, Dear Readers, is the cruelest bitch ever conceived by the human brain. I have been sitting on this posting for nearly half a year because I am stuck near the end of the chapter and the start of the next. Stuck /hard/. What I've been planning and envisioning since this project started isn't working. It . . . just . . . isn't. *sobs* But I'm still here. Still trying. I could use a friendly hello or two. Maybe a slap._

_Odd things, little details, have probably changed since I last updated. None of it should interfere with your enjoyment. The only one I can remember right now is that I finally caved and Thunderian mounts are now called that instead of horses. (You know how some people hate the word "moist"? I hate the word "mount" like that.)_

_Reviewer Thanks! As if any of this would be possible without you, my lovelies! **Dude That's Radical**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Momochan77**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Darwin**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Blackpantherlilies**, **Ashleyjenko** (Oh, darling, you have been a wonderful source of guilt. LOL! I mean that in a good way. Thank you for checking in and not giving up on me!), **CaptainCommanderLucy**, **Potato Cheese**, and **Blacktiger93**._

_Don't get me wrong . . . I'm actually kind of proud of how this chapter started . . . X3_

_Love to you all,_

_Anne_


	23. Gemini, part two

The night sky, resplendent with stars. Too many stars, clustering together in pockets of deepest blue.

_Not the sky_, Felline realized with a thrill of fear. It was _space_.

She seemed to be floating in the void, without physical form or control. She was at the mercy of what lay beyond the boundaries of Third Earth, the vast emptiness that Lion-O had tried to describe to her all those months ago. It defied description, even now, when she was experiencing it herself. The silence felt like a crushing weight, though she had no body to feel it. The stars wheeled around her as she spun on an axis, and then something much closer hove into view.

It looked like an eight-sided jewel, crimson flushing across its scarred black surface. Metallic arms caged it, running along the corners like the clawed setting in a ring.

Felline hurtled toward it at breakneck speed. If she could have screamed, she would have. The thing grew larger, filling her vision until she could only see half of it, a black pyramid, and then she was inside.

She fell through familiar metal walls and popped out the other side into a large, bare room, smooth and shiny and segmented, light flowing through the grooves of symmetrical designs. A stylized face, not quite feline and therefore grotesque, built with plates of metal welded in exaggerated angles, leered at her from the far wall. A spinning wireframe globe hovered in the air in front of her, bigger than the projection made by the ThunderTank, and three figures stood side by side below it.

Felline longed to whimper, to cringe, to do anything to show her terror. What had happened to her? Where was she – and where was her body? Lying lifeless in the ThunderTank while her soul traipsed around the Book of Omens? She could do nothing but watch as the smallest figure, a cat, typed speedily on the console in front of him.

Three Stones floated in the air above it; she recognized the pink-faceted Spirit Stone with its orbiting points of light. The second was a flat green disk, chirping like a computer chip, and the third was sharp-edged and blue with a glowing nimbus billowing around it. Mumm-Ra stared at them impassively.

A Mumm-Ra at full strength, eyes glowing like red coals, a shark-like row of fangs protruding over a wrinkled upper lip, wings furled. Two snake heads adorned his bronze battle helmet, and his bandages hung loose, baring a massive, muscled torso. A richly embroidered skirt of separate panels hugged his hips, not long enough to cover bulging thighs.

"With the acquisition of each Stone, I move one step closer to everlasting power," he said, crossing his huge arms. In spite of his positive declaration, he looked and sounded less than pleased. "Tell me that I will soon be able to add one more to my collection, Commander."

"I've picked up the War Stone's energy signature, and I'm working to pinpoint its location," said the smallest figure, and Felline nearly died of shock. It was Lion-O!

Or . . . not. She gave a mental frown. This tom may have worn Lion-O's face, but he was a good bit older. His red mane covered his cheeks and hung to his shoulders in ordered spikes. Dark streaks at his temples matched the darker lashes fringing his blue-green eyes. He wore a strange suit of zippers, decorative seams, and panels in shades of blue, with a red circle in the middle of his chest. The circle made Felline think of the jewel in Lion-O's belt. Dismayed, she realized that even their beloved symbol could be traced back to Mumm-Ra. The suit hugged the lion's body from neck to wrist, encasing his feet in heavy-soled boots. It was bizarre. No cat she knew would deliberately cover his toes like that.

Thoroughly unaware of her existence or her opinion, the commander continued typing. A new image appeared inside the globe, a hologram of a translucent cube with shaved corners, blood-red but marred by a slit of black in the center, much like the pupil of a cat's eye. The Eye of Thundera. It revolved tantalizingly in its wireframe net.

"I am pleased with the way you have handled their recovery, Leo," Mumm-Ra condescendingly said. He glanced sideways, his bullish chin wrinkling further each time he spoke. "Your skill as a tactician is a credit to your species."

"Thank you, my lord," Leo said diffidently, craning his neck to meet Mumm-Ra's haughty red gaze. He barely reached the monster's elbow.

Lion-O had told them of this, how his ancestor had worked for Mumm-Ra. The commander must be him, then, the Leo who had become Thundera's first king. Felline stared wonderingly at him, forgetting to be frightened. His voice was different, a light tenor, subtly accented, but his overall resemblance to their current king was uncanny.

"Perhaps when the universe is mine, you shall have a planet of your own to rule," Mumm-Ra went on, delivering this honor with all the indifference of a creature who expected to be obeyed, and expected his subjects to receive his gifts with unalloyed delight, but was bored by it all the same. "Supervised, of course," he added nastily. "You are still just a cat."

Leo merely nodded, dutiful and correct, while Felline fumed over the insult. _Just_ a cat? This, coming from an abomination that looked like half an aged monkey and half a bat?

Leo, however, went back to his typing as if nothing untoward had happened. "I have a lock on the coordinates," he said emotionlessly.

The third figure spoke up, drawing Felline's attention for the first time. "It appears to be located among a militarized population," she said. "They will not give it up willingly."

_Panthera_, Felline thought, awestruck at seeing not only Thundera's first king, but its first queen as well. She was tall, standing head and shoulders over Leo, and black as soot. Large, triangular ears poked out of her sleek, blue-highlighted hair. She, too, wore a skintight space suit and the clunky boots, but she wore them proudly, shoulders thrown back, head high. She was beautiful, and she knew it. Felline experienced another thrill when Panthera turned and revealed her short, thin, black tail. She was more feline than most cats, like Felline, and, best of all, _she wasn't a lion_.

"Then we will take it from them," Mumm-Ra said in answer, heat creeping into his raspy voice. "But if it is casualties you are worried about, you may send in the lizards first. See that our invasion force is ready. I must speak with the Ancient Spirits immediately."

"At once, my lord," Leo said. Both he and Panthera bowed and then left Mumm-Ra staring avidly at the hologram of the War Stone.

Time gave a hiccup, and Felline found herself floating in one of the bleak corridors. The rap of boots on raised metallic panels echoed slightly. Leo and Panthera strolled down the corridor side by side. Panthera spoke first.

"A planet of your own," she said mockingly, but her quiet voice echoed like their footsteps. The ship was not a place that was kind to private conversations. Felline got the feeling that anything they said, at any time, invited trouble. What must it be like to live under constant threat? As if thinking the same thing, Panthera walked faster, her longer legs taking her ahead of her companion. "Is that what your soul is worth, Leo?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

She stopped and whipped around, brown eyes snapping. "The destruction of one more civilization so _he_ can have his precious Stones!"

"_Shh_!" Leo hissed, casting a glance behind them. In a low, angry voice, he continued, "I don't like it when you talk this way, Panthera. Mumm-Ra needs these Stones to bring order to the universe."

She threw back her head like a goddess of the night, svelte and cold and dark, proud and free. "Then why has his pursuit of order brought only chaos?"

"This is treason!" Leo's eyes widened in something close to fear. For her? For himself? Felline couldn't tell. She didn't know him the way she knew Lion-O, but he seemed to be collared as surely as the animals in the prison blocks. "He is our master. Who are we to question him?"

"If _we_ don't, Leo," Panthera said bleakly, "who will?"

They glared at each other across twelve inches of recycled air. It might as well have been the universe.

The whiteness returned, washing out the corridor. When it receded, a different room presented itself. The same three figures stood in the center, but they were ringed by four menacing statues, larger than life, armed and cruel and ugly. A bird. A reptile. A jackal. And an ape. Felline's consciousness shuddered. These statues were clean and whole, but she recognized them. She'd last seen them as corroded shadows in a ball of purple fire. The Ancient Spirits of Evil.

Panthera and Leo did not seem troubled by the statues, and Mumm-Ra ignored them entirely. Instead, he gazed up at a monitor that allowed a view of space. A beautiful blue and pink vista swirled against the blackness, its spherical heart shining white. Felline wondered what it was. Its infinitesimal movement mesmerized her.

"You are privileged to witness the next step towards the total domination of the universe," Mumm-Ra declared to his audience of two. Three, but no one was counting Felline. He smiled, a truly a ghastly sight. "Today, from the death of a star, the ultimate weapon shall be born."

"I feel it is my duty to advise you, my lord, that the star of Plun-Darr supports ten planets, three of which contain intelligent life," Panthera said suddenly, stepping out of line. She gestured at the monitor, the blue and pink twinkling. Leo's carefully controlled expression broke into bleak anxiety when she passed in front of him. He was afraid for her, then. Felline felt strangely glad about that.

Mumm-Ra's smile vanished like a bad smell in the wind. "I assure you they will not be missed by anyone of consequence," he said in tones of frostbite.

"You can't just destroy them. Billions will die!" Panthera cried, her façade cracking.

Mumm-Ra didn't reply. He held up a hand, called forth the purple lightning, and shot her clean off her feet. He didn't deign to look at her while he did it.

"Forgive me, my lord," she managed to say from the floor, propping herself up on her elbow. The purple lightning dissipated, making her tremble. "I-I spoke without thinking."

"A major failing of your species," he snarled.

Something had finally gotten through to Leo; he spoke up, though deferentially. "She may have a point, my lord. Perhaps there's a similar star in another system." He pointed at the enhanced image of Plun-Darr, swirling with life-giving energy on the monitor. "Sparing this galaxy could extend the reach of your own empire."

"It must be _this_ galaxy," Mumm-Ra said peevishly. He was clearly not used to being contradicted. "All things have a destiny, Leo, and this star's is to perish so that I may forge the Sword and bring about order to the universe. Emotion is a weakness that has no place in mastering chaos."

"Of course," said Leo stiffly.

"It's time to launch the satellite," the Ever-Living announced.

* * *

_**A/N:** Hello, Friends! Ahhhh, you were all so wonderful to band together and leave me so many reviews. We're in this together, and we'll make it to the end! (ThunderCats, HO!)_

_Betcha never thought you'd see someone use the words "peevish" and "Mumm-Ra" in the same sentence, huh?_

_Reviewer Thanks! **Moonlightdeer**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Momochan77**, **Blackpantherlilies**, **Shiraksi**, **AndrianaWarrior7**, **Ashleyjenko**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **HotaruKitsune**, **Darwin**, and **LXS**. Thank you all SO MUCH!_

_Forever and ever yours,_

_Anne_


	24. Gemini, part three

In a blink, Felline was transported outside the _Black Pyramid_. The ship glowed evilly, a fiery gem trapped in metal claws, hovering like a parasite. She knew that word, _galaxy_. It was a collection of solar systems, one of which Third Earth was part. Felline watched in unspeaking horror as the ship spat out what looked like a tiny pill, glad beyond words that she was not to know who launched it and thus directly had a paw in what was coming. The unmanned satellite flew toward Plun-Darr's star like a blackened thorn, red light glowing in the symmetrical designs of its hull.

The distance between the _Black Pyramid_ and the star of Plun-Darr was so great that Felline couldn't comprehend it until some program aboard the drone satellite opened a swirling blue hole in space itself – for just an instant, a tunnel appeared behind it, worming away into the dark – the drone entered, and vanished. Within seconds, it reappeared, impossibly miniscule against the blinding brightness of the Plun-Darr's star.

Felline's vision backed off. For a moment, she dared to hope it had somehow gone wrong, that it hadn't worked.

A black bubble appeared in the center of the galaxy. It grew with alarming speed, and then a soundless explosion took over. Its reaching flames devoured the softly glowing pinks and blues, turning the vista into a nebula of hellish crimson. Bigger, and bigger – Felline longed to shut her eyes, or to at least turn away, as she knew Panthera had done. But she, like Leo, was forced to watch the impersonal annihilation of countless planets and moons and comets and asteroids.

It ended as quickly as it had begun. All that remained of the galaxy, the three inhabited planets and their sun, was a glob of something liquid and reflective, like melted chrome, wobbling uncertainly in the vacuum of space.

The drone opened, revealing a force field in its middle and four insectile arms. Purple electricity arced between the arms, lanced out, and captured the globule. _So small_! Felline couldn't believe it – the blob of metal was the size of a kitten, like Kit or Kat. The drone easily stored it inside the force field and returned to the ship with its payload.

"Bring in the blacksmith!" Mumm-Ra bellowed.

A tall, wiry mountain lion walked into the light, his fur as pale as moonlit desert sand. The tips of his whitened mane were gray, as were the stripes bracketing his stern mouth. Although his eyes were blue, the whites swallowed the light, as black as the void. He approached the glob of metal and hefted a massive hammer.

The eyes of the four statues blazed with red lightning, which shot from them and enveloped the lion. He made no sound, but his teeth clenched and the tendons in his neck stood out so sharply that Felline feared they would burst through skin and ashy fur. His eyes glowed too, pink and red and mindless. He brought the hammer crashing down on the glob, transferring heat to it through the sheer force of the blow. Again and again he struck, sending sparks and bits of metal flying, beating what had once been an entire diverse galaxy into a blade that gleamed like obsidian. It sang as it hovered above the pedestal, its wicked hilt taking the shape of fish fins, or bat wings, beneath the artful strikes of the hammer.

Watching the blacksmith labor under the influence of the Ancient Spirits of Evil, Mumm-Ra smiled.

He began to chant in an unknown language, calling his new Sword and Gauntlet. They floated to him along with the three Spirit Stones, which embedded themselves in the Gauntlet.

"It is done," he said in extreme satisfaction, brandishing the Stone-less Sword. "Never forget, Leo. True power is not given, but _taken_."

He did not seem to expect a response, and Leo didn't give him one. Instead, the young lion waited until the sound of Mumm-Ra's footsteps died before he spoke.

"This can't be the way," he said, his voice laden with grief.

He and Panthera turned to the monitor that now only looked out on blank, black space.

Then the whiteness came, the Book turned a page, and the horror was blessedly wiped clean.

Panthera strode purposefully down the corridor. Leo reached out from a niche and grabbed her arm.

She yanked it free. "What do you want, Commander?" she snapped down at him, her displeasure palpable.

"You were right, Panthera. Mumm-Ra is not the leader I thought he was," Leo said. In spite of the differences in their faces, Felline could not help seeing Lion-O in him, especially when his brows pinched pensively like that.

"It's too late," Panthera said sourly, propping her paws on her hips. "Now that he has the Sword of Plun-Darr we won't be able to stop him."

"Mumm-Ra plans to put the War Stone in the Sword so he can direct its power," Leo said. "What if we got to it first?"

"And then what?" she challenged, unbending. "It can't be destroyed and we have no way to harness its energy."

"We could," Leo said, a very Lion-O-ish smirk touching his mouth, "if we had our own Sword."

A heartbeat passed, and then two. Panthera's violet-glossed lips curved in approval.

Another hiccup in time put Felline back in the room, on the suspended platform where the possessed blacksmith had forged the Sword. A quartet of naked rats were cleaning with bits of rag and a machine that sucked up the gobbets of leftover metal. Leo approached them fearlessly, cloaked in his mantle of authority.

"What do you think you're doing?" he barked.

The rats paused, looking up at him in complete bewilderment. They were mangy things, used to hard treatment, their beady eyes watering in the low lighting as if they were normally kept in the dark.

"Don't you know Lord Mumm-Ra needs this metal for another ceremony?" Leo demanded. He huffily crossed his arms and waited.

"We were told to destroy it all immediately, Commander," said the rat with the vacuum.

"And Lord Mumm-Ra told _me_ to gather every scrap and bring it to him at once," Leo retorted, the hint of a snarl showing in the flash of his fangs. "Are you questioning his orders, or mine?"

The rat flinched, but said nothing more. He handed over the machine, the metal glittering in its see-through collecting box.

"I won't tell him about your failure, but I suggest you get back to work," Leo said, more gently. Not crossing the barrier, but not abusing his power, either. Just like Lion-O.

Mumm-Ra caught up to him before he'd gone far through the belly of the ship. At last, the size of the corridors was explained as Mumm-Ra landed behind the lion, wings unfurled to their fullest extent. How could any creature be so huge and still walk on two legs?

"What do you have there, Leo?" he asked.

"Just doing some housekeeping, my lord," Leo stuttered. It was clear that he'd been given quite a fright, but he turned and looked Mumm-Ra straight in the face.

"Did I not ask this of the rats?"

"Yes, but I –" Leo smiled, searching desperately for the right thing to say, "could not leave such an important task in their hands."

"You seem to be losing your focus," Mumm-Ra mused, his mad eyes narrowing. "I'm worried you're letting your emotions get the best of you."

Leo wilted, blue-green eyes troubled. "Of course not, my lord."

"Good. I would hate to have to replace you."

With that, the monster strode away, and Leo let out a sigh that seemed to come from his stomach. Careful not to run, he continued down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Making use of the ventilation system much as Felline and the others had already done in the far future, he sniffed out Panthera. She and the mountain lion stood in a makeshift forge, tucked away in the _Black Pyramid_'s guts. Felline could hear the ship working all around them, knocking and wheezing like an old farmhouse. It must have been terribly hot, but she, without corporeal form, couldn't tell for sure. The only light came from a brazier full of woodless fire, and its golden hue fell full on the hammer. It was shaped like a roaring lion head, the back of its flowing mane cut off to make the flat part of the tool. To Felline, it looked extremely heavy, but the thin, muscled mountain lion with his pale fur was even taller than Panthera and didn't look bothered by its weight. In fact, by the way he gripped the leather-wrapped handle, Felline wondered if he ever put it down.

"What took you so long?" Panthera hissed when Leo approached with the stolen metal.

"Don't ask," he muttered. He put the vacuum machine on a long, flat table. "Did you do your part?"

"The blacksmith has agreed to forge us a sword," she said.

The mountain lion, with his weird black and blue eyes and stern expression, gave an assenting nod. He didn't need to say a word. He no longer wished to be used for evil, and if this was the way to end the cycle, then he was going to do it.

Leo pushed the machine toward him. "You understand the consequences should Mumm-Ra uncover our plan," he said. "This is the one chance we have to defeat him."

"Not a lot to work with," Panthera said critically, eyeing the vacuum's contents. "It won't be as big as the Sword of Plun-Darr."

"As long as it's large enough to hold the War Stone," Leo said.

He may have said something else, but the Book whisked Felline through its remaining pages, swiftly recounting what happened next. How the exhausted blacksmith and his – grown children, perhaps? They were as ashy and tall and beautiful as he was – presented Leo the Sword of Omens, whose otherworldly voices Felline now recognized as the ghosts of the lost civilizations that went into its creation. How those ghosts would choose a master of good, to prevent such a holocaust from ever happening again; it was they who funneled the power of the Eye of Thundera, which was, after all, a lifeless chunk of crystal. How a bearded, gravel-voiced tiger commanded his pilots to stand by Mumm-Ra while Leo, Panthera, a corpulent lizard, and a majestic black jackal led the rebellion, attempting to unite the species. How the unquenched distrust between them prompted them to separate the Power Stones in the first place, and for the cats to exile their tiger clans to the Snowy Mountains. How technology had become taboo.

There was hope, the Book promised her. It was then that she realized it spoke in Jaga's wise voice. The Sword of Omens would be their salvation. For it, and the lives it contained, would never rest until the evil that had destroyed Plun-Darr was cleansed from the universe forever. Leo and Panthera were gone, but a new generation had risen to take their places.

They called themselves ThunderCats.

* * *

_**A/N:** Do you realize it's SNOWING out right now? Eight inches and still going. Anyone else getting buried today? So, in light of my not being able to go anywhere, a chapter for all you lovelies._

_Reviewer Thanks! **rosewhip889**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Blackpantherlilies**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Darwin**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Momochan77**, **ashleyjenko**, and **AndrianaWarrior7**. Thanks for being so patient. :3_

_Humbly Yours,_

_Anne_


	25. Gemini, part four

Felline woke feeling as if she'd been punched in the chest. She sucked in a breath that was painfully loud and opened her eyes.

A pair of pale gray eyes hovered inches above her own, brimming with worry and shock.

"Ah!" Felline sat up and was forced to put a hand to her forehead before the contents of her skull spilled out of her eyes. "Ow . . ."

"General," Bastien sharply called.

"Easy there," Panthro rumbled a second later, helping her ease back onto the floor. "What in blazes did you think you were doing? At least the kid had the sense not to give himself a concussion when he read the Book."

"I didn't know I'd be doing any reading," she muttered fuzzily.

"What happened?" Bastien asked, sitting back on his heels with a sigh of relief. He raked a paw through his shaggy hair. "I thought you were dead. You weren't breathing."

She answered with a groan. Lion-O hadn't exhibited any discomfort after having his soul and his body reunited, but she felt terrible. Maybe that was because she'd hit her head on the way down. "How long?"

"Twenty minutes? I went to get help and found the general."

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes in which she'd witnessed the death of a star and the birth of the twin blades. She'd seen a young lion wrest his power from Mumm-Ra, and thus the beginning of the ThunderCats. She'd watched legends come to life. She felt dizzy.

"Thank you," she whispered when Panthro put a cool metal paw to her forehead. The cockpit stopped spinning then.

"Can you tell us what you saw?" Panthro asked.

"Sure –" she mumbled sleepily, but then her eyes snapped open. Twenty _minutes_? Anything could happen in twenty minutes! "No, never mind that! What about Lion-O and Pumyra?"

"No sign of them," Panthro answered grimly.

"Then what's that?" Bastien asked.

Felline crawled over the seats and slid into the pilot's. Her white fingers flew, claws ticking across the controls, and Mt. Plun-Darr bloomed across the screens, carmine and obsidian. One side of the mountain abruptly blew outward in a dusty shower of glittering crystal and sharp rock. Other vents smoked sullenly, evidence of something with firepower passing through the mines. Several warmechs slumped against the ravaged tor, abandoned after they'd punched holes directly into the tunnels. Mumm-Ra's army milled through the empty gulag, apparently leaderless.

"I don't see Kaynar or Addicus," Panthro rumbled, "but I'm willing to bet my baby that Lion-O and Pumyra have been found."

He was right. Red and blue light warred through the cracks, strobing across the clouds.

"They're still alive," Felline breathed. She would recognize that starshine blue anywhere. "Still fighting."

"Shouldn't we help them?" Bastien asked.

Felline and Panthro exchanged a look. Purple lightning crackled, arcing around the fissures in the mountain's slopes, unmistakably evil. Lion-O and Pumyra were fighting for their lives right at that very instant. Panthro jumped into the co-pilot's seat and Felline threw the engine in gear. The tank growled to life.

Far in the east, a glimmer of pure golden light shone along the horizon. Dawn. As if at a signal, the lizards dispersed like rats, leaping into their mechs and aboard their hovercraft. The ThunderTank was still too far away. Under cover of the mountain's shadow, the lizards zoomed off into the west, chasing the fleeing night. Not as if retreating, but as if their master had gotten what he'd come for.

"_Blast_!" Panthro roared. He slammed a fist on the console and a barrage of missiles halfheartedly screamed after the retreating lizards. Two wrecked hovercraft and a demolished mech weren't enough to make them turn and stand, even though they had the cats outnumbered twenty to one. "Come back here, you flea-bitten, scaly cowards!"

Felline brought the tank to a graceful stop near one of the collapsed tunnel walls. The lizards were gone, as were Mumm-Ra and the Sword of Plun-Darr, she was sure. Briefly, she rested her forehead against the yoke. Nobody said anything. She could feel Panthro glaring at the screens next to her, his good eye searching desperately for a hint of their friends.

"It's over," Felline said in a low voice, counter-balancing his bluster. "We've lost."

Bastien shot her a narrow-eyed look. What was it that he saw when he looked at her? _Who_ did he see? How much had this war changed her? Had it really changed her at all? Or had it been her illicit sojourn through the Book of Omens that made her feel like she was wearing someone else's fur?

Panthro said something impolite, spun his chair around, and stomped from the cockpit. He opened the hatch to lighter footsteps hurrying up the corridor.

"What happened?" Tygra called.

"Where's Lion-O?" Cheetara added.

"I'm goin' out to drag is sorry hide back here," Panthro said. His words were belligerent, but his voice was bleak. "That is, if they've left any part of him intact."

Pain lanced through Felline's chest, hot and white and urgent. Lion-O wasn't dead. He couldn't be. She put her paw on the quiescent book, feeling its red leather cover press reassuringly against her fingerpads. No. He wasn't dead. She would know.

"Come on," she said to Bastien, sliding out of her seat.

"Right." He fell into step behind her, and the five cats filed out into a clearer day than Mt. Plun-Darr had seen in countless years. The cancerous evil that had once formed the heart of the mountain had been removed, allowing the dry, sandy breath of the desert to steal in. Broken, blood-red crystal crunched under their feet.

"Why don't we ever meet anywhere nice?" Bastien asked under his breath. "We're always getting interrupted."

Felline glanced up at him. He grinned down at her, and she offered a small, grateful smile in return. He was so nice. He'd come to talk to her, and had seemed so worried that she wouldn't wake. Why shouldn't she care for him? She lowered her head so that her hair slid between them, blocking him from her sight, but she could feel his presence against her side, hear his breathing. Now wasn't the time. But, maybe. After Lion-O returned to them. Alive. Then, just maybe.

They waited for their friends to appear, Panthro in front, Tygra and Cheetara silent behind his armored bulk, Felline and Bastien off to the side. Before long, two tall, straight-backed figures walked out of the stinking black hole in the mountain. A new closeness existed between them. They were like one entity. Pumyra's autumn eyes were as gravely steady as Lion-O's blue.

"Mumm-Ra has the Sword of Plun-Darr," Lion-O said without preamble, to the surprise of no one.

Panthro's bristly black brows drew down like a briar patch over his mismatched eyes. "Then we better make sure we find that next Stone first," he said darkly.

Lion-O nodded. "The balance has shifted. We're looking at a whole new war."

* * *

_**A/N:** Because of a pinkie promise (thank you, Darwin!), I've decided to bite the bullet and post this teeny scene to end the chapter so I can move on. I've been agonizing over the fact that it's so pitifully short, but there just wasn't much more to say! Oh, well. It's not like I haven't done weird things before, right? LOL._

_In addition to all of my lovely reviewers, I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to those of you who have recently sent me follows and favorites on "Exiles" and "Rebels." You guys fill my heart! Thank you so much!_

_Reviewer Thanks! **rosewhip889**, **Moonlightdeer**, **Heart of the Demons**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Momochan77**, **KelseyAlicia**, **Blackpantherlilies**, **AndrianaWarrior7**, **Guest** (I couldn't thank you personally, but believe me, your review made me smile! The excitement was contagious, hee), **DragonCurse4**, **Blacktiger93**(I made a promise! It makes me so utterly happy that you're still here!), **ashleyjenko**(I sure am! Thanks for checking on me from time to time, sweetie. It helps!), **NightStalkers**, and **booklover1798**. Would you look at that list of readers? Fifteen of you! You guys are SO AMAZING. Thank you! :3_

_Ever Yours,_

_Frankie Anne_


	26. I've given up on titles, whee! part one

"It's not like that, Father," Felline said. She slammed shut a maintenance panel so that his gray, haggard face abruptly filled her vision. An unpleasant mix of feelings rose at the sight of him. Snow's ice-blue eyes had gone pink and watery around the rims. He'd been through so much that it looked as though his fur lay flush against bone. She should have felt bad for him. She _did_ feel bad for him. Grief and guilt lay heavy on her heart in equal measure – but just then his tightly curled and broken whiskers annoyed her. She'd seen them too often lately. Why couldn't he leave her alone?

When she turned away from him, he followed her to the next panel, as she'd known he would. She knelt in the dust at his feet to get at one of the tank's impressive spark plug arrays, so that he and his crude crutch loomed crookedly over her.

"Then what is it like, Felline?" he asked, resuming an argument that had taken up most of the morning. "You tail him everywhere like a lovesick cub."

What did Snow think _he'd_ been doing the past two days? Pressing her lips together, Felline recalibrated her goggles, dug a corroded plug out of its socket with her claws, and set to work cleaning the sticky, burned gunk off the connectors. Unfortunately, the _scrape, scrape_ of her knife didn't drown out her father's voice. He kept talking, even after she powered on her handheld welder and the sparks began to fly.

"Can't you see that he's only humoring you because you're a girl?"

_Woman_, Felline corrected silently.

"He can hardly order you away –"

But he had once, long ago. Felline smiled at the memory. They'd come so far since those early days of distrust and prejudice.

"It's wrong to force yourself on him –"

Felline clenched her teeth. _Forcing_ herself on him? When she was nothing but polite nowadays, since he'd made it clear her company was best enjoyed in small doses? Was that what Snow saw?

"There is no point in staying for a tom who won't speak for you!"

There. They'd circled back to the start of the argument. Exasperated, Felline ripped off her goggles and threw them to the ground.

"For the last time, it's not like that!" she cried. "I'm not staying because I'm hoping someone will claim me. I stay because I'm needed here. I am a ThunderCat! You have no idea what we've been through, what we've done, what we still have to do. I'm not quitting now."

"Felline –" he started, amused pity suffusing his face.

She'd known he wouldn't believe her, but she had to make one thing absolutely clear, once and for all, so she cut him off. "There is nothing between me and Panthro. I assure you, the thought never crossed my mind. I'm not _following him around_ – I'm his assistant!"

Felline stopped talking, though she was still defiant. She'd stood up to her father. For the first time in her life, she'd held her ground. She thought Snow was going to explode. He swelled like a bullfroog, crinkled whiskers quivering. After a heartbeat or two, however, he deflated and his ears sagged.

"You mean to tell me that he hasn't spoken for you at all?" he asked in an entirely different, meece-like tone.

She struggled with a mad desire to laugh. "_Panthro_? Are you kidding? He's called me a snot-nosed brat more than once. He is a lot older than the rest of us, after all. Besides, Father – do you see this?" She indicated her box of tools, the half-completed repair job, the shiny new plug, all wired up and ready to go. "I'm really working, not pretending. Panthro won't let any other cat but me work on the ThunderTank."

She couldn't keep the pride out of her voice when she said it, but he didn't seem to be listening. His gaze strayed across the road, empty in both directions but for themselves and the massive silver tank, dulled by a coating of dust. Two days on the road put the hollow mountain and its skeletal guardian under the horizon, but they were still a week from Dog City. Pumyra had continued to insist they not follow the freed slaves even though there'd been no sign of Mumm-Ra or his army. So they'd struck out in the opposite direction, trundling into deep, twisting, sandstone canyons, the tank's treads kicking up a brown plume that stained the air for miles. The plume was indistinguishable from the towering dirt devils that frequently tore across the dry, lonely land. It was an altogether desolate place.

"All right," Snow said at last. Meditatively, he scrubbed a paw over his ears.

Felline stared at him. "Are you actually _disappointed_? After all the fuss you've been making for two whole days?"

"Try to see it from my point of view," he said defensively. "You are my daughter. You've done well, but it's time for you to come back where you belong. It isn't right for them to expect you to fight like a soldier. We don't have to go back to Thundera!" he hurried on when she opened her mouth to argue. "We can go anywhere we like, Felline. Make a new home. Just you and me."

He was wheedling now. She looked up at him, studying the round, cub-like eyes that were so much like her own. "I have traveled across this land from one end to the other. Every habitable inch of it has already been claimed. There is nowhere for cats to go except home. You have to return to Thundera with the others, Father. They need you, and you know it."

His face darkened like a snow-laden cloud and he growled, "They don't need me."

"They need you," she repeated. She stood, brushing grit off her knees. "You're the one they look up to, and Lion-O needs you there. He needs someone to lead in his place."

"Bastien can do that."

"Not without you," she said. If Snow wanted an argument, then she would give him one and see how he liked being in the hot seat. "You are Snow, commander of the royal guard, until the king relieves you of your post. To do otherwise is treason. Believe me when I say this: I'm not leaving until Lion-O returns to claim his throne. It is your duty to ensure he has a throne and a people to come home to. You can run away if you want to, Father. I'm staying right here."

Snow gave her a sideways look down the length of his nose. "So you'll stay. Fine. Prince Tygra has spoken for the cleric?"

"Cheetara. Yes," Felline said through her teeth.

"And King –"

"Father!" Felline shouted. She resisted putting her face in her paws, sure she'd leave claw marks in her fur if she did. He was not going to do this to her. Lion-O and whatever her father thought he understood about her motivation were not going to enter this conversation together. She managed to keep her voice from shaking, barely. "Please. Stop. First you spend two days warning me off General Panthro when what you really wanted was for me to throw myself into his arms, and now you're trying to set me up with the king. Why can't I be happy as just me? Why can't you accept that I am a ThunderCat?"

To her dismay, he ignored the desperation in her voice and sandwiched her slender fingers between his wide paws. "I only want what's best for you, little one," he said huskily, his eyes alarmingly bright. "I should have been there for you. You and your sister."

"No," she said quietly. She raised her free paw and rubbed her forehead, feeling the thin ridge of scar tissue above her left eye. "Did you know Mumm-Ra sneaked his lizards into the city in the giant crystal that Grune brought as a gift for Claudus?"

Snow's paws tightened. "What?"

"I saw them," she said, this long-dead secret finally laying itself to rest. "Our army would never have been defeated if it weren't for the deception of one of our own. Once the king opened the gates and let him in, there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent the fall of Thundera. What happened to Lep and me wasn't your fault. I never blamed you. You were right where the king ordered you to be, defending the wall and everyone inside it. Bastien did the best he could for me. And so did you."

Snow took a moment to compose himself. "Thank you for saying that," he said.

After a moment's hesitation, she leaned in and kissed his wasted cheek. "It's not over. We're still here, and we have to do all we can to make sure that Third Earth's cats survive. I'm going to do my part. Will you?"

"Yes," he said. He went quiet, so Felline thought with relief that the conversation might be over, but then he added, "You do know that Bastien intends to marry Cleo, right?"

The torture was never going to end! "Yes, Father," she said in defeat.

Bastien had moved on. She knew that now. Felline closed her eyes against a pang. Pumyra had been the one to yank the rug out from under her in her usual unfeeling, straightforward manner, for which Felline had not quite forgiven her. It happened the evening after their loss at Mt. Plun-Darr. Pumyra had taken it upon herself to examine Cleo, the young calico woman Bastien had brought stumbling out of the gulag, who had been too weak with fever to walk on her own.

Pumyra helped Cleo recline on the bunk WilyKit sometimes shared with Kat. Bastien hovered nearby, getting in the way while Cheetara attempted to make Cleo comfortable. Felline smiled at him when she reached around him to fetch an extra blanket and pillow, cool water and a rag, and some of their own precious rations. Cleo dove into thin, day-old soup, eating as frantically as the twins had when presented with an entire candyfruit orchard. She whispered her thanks before dropping into an exhausted sleep, her bowl falling from limp fingers.

Bastien snorted. "I thought she was going to eat the spoon, too."

"You mean like you tried to?" Felline shot at him, and he matched her grin.

"Yeah," he said unabashedly. "_Hungry_ doesn't begin to describe it. We can't thank you enough for your help," he added, including Cheetara and Pumyra with his grateful look.

Cheetara smiled warmly at him. "It's the least we can do."

"We know what it's like. Once, we were so hungry we got ourselves trapped in a fishnet on the sandsea," Felline said, and Bastien roared with laughter. "We were starving, and there was food. A lot of it. Floating there, just offshore, a whole feast spread out for no one. It smelled so good none of us thought twice about diving in. A crew of fishmen fished us out of the sand, called us food, and threatened to cook the kittens first because they would be the most tender."

"How did you get out of that?" he wanted to know, still snickering.

"It was thanks to Lion-O, in the end," she said, and told him the story of Captain Tunar and the ramlak.

It had been like this since they'd returned to the ThunderTank. Bastien shadowed Felline everywhere, asking questions, laughing, warming her like sunlight on a snowy mountainside. Every time she happened to glance his way, she discovered he was peeking at her, too, which caused them both to laugh. His carefree manner was as welcome as a refreshing drink in this hot, dusty desert. There had been too much darkness and anxiety and fear lately. Bastien soothed it all away. Felline told him all the hair-raising details of life on Tunar's ship, watching his face for every change of emotion. He was a wonderful listener.

Through Felline's story, Cleo never stirred and Pumyra didn't say a word, though this should have been news to her, too. She worked diligently, side by side with Cheetara, cleaning cuts old and new, stitching up the worst of them. It didn't appear as if she was listening to Felline's story, but Bastien made up for it, paying the strictest attention to the end. When Felline finished, however, he leaned over Cheetara's shoulder anxiously.

"Is she all right?" he asked.

"She's fine." Gently, Cheetara smoothed Cleo's tri-colored hair from her face. "She just needs rest."

Bastien relaxed, but Pumyra gave the skeptical, raspy hum that Felline had first heard in the cells beneath the Pit.

"I didn't know clerics trained as medics," she said. Subtly, she wedged herself between Cheetara and her patient. Cheetara's pretty, pale face went as blank as the Cheshire moon's.

She sat back, giving the lioness room. "We don't," she said, "but I have learned a few things since the fall of my order. My magic is sympathetic. It isn't all that different to make a request of my staff, which is still psychically connected to the living tree from which it came, than it is to sense the rhythms of a feline's internal systems."

Cheetara's utterly confident exterior usually commanded the same respect that her old mentor must have, but Pumyra, as unselfconscious as it was possible to be, seemed unaffected by so much awe-inspiring presence. She simply went on with her examination and then hummed again, intent on tying the last bandage. She nodded as if satisfied.

"Not bad," she said in her low, roughened voice. She smiled at Cheetara with genuine, unexpected warmth, totally at odds with the bellicose tone she'd taken moments before. "You're right. She'll recover once she gets some rest."

She stood, straightening the fur-lined dress that marked her a slave, for they had nothing else for her to wear, and reassuringly put her paw on Bastien's shoulder. "Don't worry. Her cubs are fine, too."

Then, as though to say her work was done, she ducked into the companionway and left a strained silence in her wake.

The silence stretched like one of Panthro's arms. Longer. And longer. And it wouldn't break.

_Did she say . . . Her_ cubs?

Felline stood up also, though much faster. Her head spun. The other cats both looked at her, but she had eyes only for Bastien.

A question thundered through her brain, filling her ears with a dull rushing sound. Memories flicked through her mind's eye, as silent and flat as a muted viewscreen. A guard called out to her on the bridge, gray eyes full of concern. Pebbles clicked against her window, leading her to the laughing tom on the ground. A swift peck on the cheek, surrounded by catcalls, was taken in place of a favor. She received her first, real, heart-stopping kiss while Thundera's great white fountain played in the light of two moons. The question roared above it all like a volcano's eruption, loud as an approaching army bent on destruction, but she had misplaced her lips and tongue and she couldn't ask it.

As she stared at him, voiceless and frozen, Bastien slowly blushed from his threadbare collar to the roots of his mane. She had her answer.

The bile rose, and Felline fled.

What an idiot she'd been! She'd thought he still cared for her, the way he found little ways to touch her hand or her arm, how reluctant he seemed to let her out of his sight, how worried he'd been when he found her unconscious on the cockpit floor. It had all been a screen! A way to pass the time until he could be sure of Cleo's safety, and that of her cubs. His cubs.

How could he have deceived her like that? How could he risk hurting Cleo by singling Felline out? He must have seen how Felline was responding to him. They all must have. How could she have deceived herself? The truth seemed so painfully obvious now.

"Felline, wait!"

Cheetara caught up to and passed her in a sun-yellow blur. The cheetah stopped her wild flight by grabbing her shoulders. "Felline, I'm sorry. I knew about Cleo right away. I should have said something earlier."

"No. It wasn't your secret to tell. I mean, it wasn't a secret. Of course not. I should have noticed it, just like everyone else, right? There wasn't any need for you to say something."

Felline realized she was babbling and bit her lip. To her horror, tears welled up. She bit harder.

"That Pumyra! How can she be so insensitive?" Cheetara hissed furiously. "You cared for him, didn't you?"

Felline laughed. It sounded like the wail of a cub. "I did. Maybe? I don't know. I wonder if he ever cared about me, though. I mean, if we had stayed together in Thundera, would I be like Cleo? Pregnant, I mean? That's caring for himself more than her. Isn't it? How could he – in that _place_ – where they were working her to death – and he still . . . Would that have been me?"

Cheetara shook her head, seeming unable to answer the flow of heartbroken questions, but her expression of sympathy somehow lent Felline strength. She took a few deep breaths and wiped her nose on the back of her paw. What use was crying? Bastien had never been hers.

"Don't blame Pumyra," she said, offering Cheetara a watery smile. "I'm fine. It's better to know, and Bastien certainly wasn't going to tell me. I don't think Pumyra was intentionally trying to hurt me. She surprised me. That's all."

Her calm reassurance seemed to convince Cheetara that everything was fine, but that was because Cheetara couldn't see the hard knot of resentment burning in Felline's chest. Felline watched her friend return to Cleo's bedside with narrowed eyes. She was beginning to think that the past needed to stay in the past. Snow. Bastien. Even Cleo, though the only thing that poor girl had done was the unfortunate capturing of Bastien's heart. Once they got to Dog City Felline could say goodbye to them all, and good riddance.

And Pumyra? No, Pumyra hadn't intentionally hurt her. Felline numbly headed for the weapons lockers, knowing that she would at least be alone there, and could explain that she'd wanted to clean her gunblade if anyone asked. Not that anyone would.

Because Felline and her feelings didn't enter Pumyra's thoughts at all, and that was worse.

* * *

_**A/N:** In honor of all of you, Dear Readers, here it is: An extra-long chapter, just for you! *throws confetti* I may have FINALLY broken this writer's block that's had me strung up for, what . . . a year? Yeesh. For all you newer writers out there, some advice: Don't add _four_ OCs in one episode that does just fine without any of them. LMAO._

_Reviewer Thanks! You're all so amazing, like frosting! Mmmm. Frosting. **KelseyAlicia**, **BrickSheep**, **Momochan77**, **Heart of the Demons**, **booklover1798**, **Moonlightdeer**, **The Night Whisperer**, **FallingStar5027**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **Blackpantherlilies**, **AndrianaWarrior7**, **NightStalkers** (thank you so much, sweetheart!), and **Blacktiger93**._

_Jubilantly signing off to go write some more,_

_Anne!_

_Afterthought: Proofreading. It's your friend. OTL_


	27. I've given up on titles, whee! part two

Another day brought the ThunderCats to rocky peaks shaped like cats' claws and a sparse stand of shaggy fir. They took shelter from the heat gratefully, setting up logs in a circle around what would be a fire pit come nightfall. Neither Bastien nor Snow made an appearance, for which Felline was grateful. She and Cheetara gave the tank a good washing and much-needed airing while Panthro and Tygra plotted their final route back to Dog City and their missing comrades.

"I've been really worried about them," Felline said, stretching freshly-laundered towels along their improvised clothesline.

"I'm sure the twins and Snarf are fine," Cheetara said, which was what she said every time Felline brought up the subject.

"We can only hope." Felline bent and picked up the box they had pressed into service as a laundry basket. "We left them there without telling them where we were going. How can we be sure they'll still be in Dog City when we get back?"

Cheetara laughed. "Where else would they go? Trust me, they can take care of themselves."

"They're just cubs. They shouldn't have to," Felline said.

"It'll be all right. Two days." Cheetara nudged her with her hip as they strolled back to the tank, its bay doors open to the dry breeze. "Two days, and then we can meet up with them. They'll be fine. You'll see. On the other paw, what are we going to do about Snow and Cleo? With his leg and her condition, how will they get back to Thundera?"

"Oh!" Felline danced around Cheetara in the last rays of the setting sun, holding her box on top of her head. "I had an idea about that. See, the old hound who helped me out of Thundera – I gave my mount to him. He said he was going home. So, if he's still in Dog City, and he still has the mount, and if I can find him, maybe we can buy it off him and let my father and Cleo take turns riding it back to Thundera. They'd catch up to the others within a day."

"That's a lot of _if_s," Panthro called across their campsite, his deep voice echoing slightly around the trees.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Tygra asked him. He'd been the least pleased with their guests, probably because finding a private moment with Cheetara had become all but impossible. "Getting to this dog sounds like our best bet."

"We have to get searching for the next Stone as soon as possible," Felline reminded Panthro. "And he's not a _dog_, Tygra, he's my friend. His name is Jorma."

"It could be Mud for all I care. A friend wouldn't make you pay for what's yours to begin with. That stinks of mutt," Tygra retorted, so she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Has anyone seen Lion-O and Pumyra?" Cheetara asked, her mind obviously elsewhere.

Panthro smirked. "He invited her into the woods to, uh, 'collect firewood,' " he said.

Felline groaned. "Are you serious? And she fell for that?"

"The poor kid's only setting himself up to get shot down. _Again_," Tygra added with an identical smirk.

She giggled, but then she sighed. Bastien had made her forget her feelings for Lion-O, just for a while. Now that she was avoiding any thought of Bastien, thoughts of Lion-O had returned full force. She hadn't seen him at all since leaving the gulag. She felt like her one slim chance had blown away, a spider's thread in the wind. It was so pathetic it was laughable.

If she was being honest with herself, Felline thought that if anyone, Lion-O could get past Pumyra's prickly exterior, and she didn't know how she felt about that.

"Pumyra isn't exactly the friendliest cat," Cheetara said, as if reading her mind.

_But what could be more perfect than the lion and the lioness_? Felline wondered sadly. Out loud, she said, "She's not unfriendly, either. She's been at my father's beck and call, and she even gave up her rations to Cleo last night."

"Maybe you're right," Cheetara conceded, but her sunset eyes went to the stand of trees doubtfully.

And then something stalked out of the stand that had them all staring in utter disbelief.

It looked like Pumyra. The long, strong legs. The clenched fists. The stiff shoulders. The beautiful, proud, scowling face . . .

Felline choked. Pumyra's face wasn't remotely proud or beautiful any longer. It was huge, stretched out like a lump of dough left to rise. Her gold-brown eyes had been pinched into furious diamonds by her reddened, puffed-up cheeks.

"What happened?" Cheetara squeaked.

Lion-O came trotting sheepishly out of the trees, but when Pumyra heard him and bristled, he pulled up short. They all knew it was a very real possibility that Pumyra would shoot him cold where he stood.

Two queer noises, like laughter quickly stifled, originated in the direction of the ThunderTank. Cheetara glared at Tygra, who swallowed his smirk and tried to look appropriately concerned. Panthro, unencumbered by female disapproval, grinned broadly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Pumyra announced through swollen lips. She swept into the tank, grotesquely bloated head held high as a queen's, ginger and white ponytail swinging.

Cheetara sighed. After a last chastising frown at her boyfriend, she hurried to catch the lioness.

Tygra shrugged. "Well, it's not like I wanted to make her feel bad, but you really messed up this time," he said, to his little brother.

"What did you do?" Felline gasped, caught uncomfortably between laughing and wanting to cry in sympathy.

"Nothing! I didn't – It was a flower," Lion-O admitted miserably. "I thought she would like it, but it – it squirted her and –"

"Gave her an allergic reaction? Real smooth, kid," Panthro rumbled, still grinning. Then, he put his paws on his hips. His grin melted away, to be replaced by his customary scowl. "Now, about that firewood."

Lion-O's paws hung empty at his sides. He tried to hide them, realized what he was doing, and forced them still. "Right now?"

"Fire's not gonna light itself."

"You want me to collect it alone? You're kidding!"

Panthro's square, gray face gave as much of his thoughts away as a blank stone wall would have. "I never kid," he said flatly.

Lion-O's lower lip pushed out. He turned and stomped away.

"I think you're wrong, Tygra. He's not going to get shot down," Felline said after he had vanished.

"Are you blind?" Tygra exclaimed. "You can't honestly think Pumyra is going to thank him for this. Besides, I know my darling little brother too well. He's not going to give up, and who knows what he'll do to her next."

"Exactly," Felline said. All of a sudden, she was intensely grateful that Lion-O had never tried to flirt with her. "Look what he did with a flower. She's not going to survive long enough to shoot him down."

At that, the small, darkening clearing rang with laughter.

..::~*~::..

Pumyra's condition did not improve by morning. She bore her altered looks with good grace, though Felline suspected her indifference to her plight could be attributed to her usual brusque manner that didn't leave room for setbacks.

"Do you see that?" Tygra asked from the co-pilot's seat, where he'd been monitoring their progress along the desert floor, steering them away from box canyons and other dead ends. He pointed to a column of familiar dust, considerably smaller than their own trail, dwindling to nothing on the wind.

"Doesn't seem to be moving," Pumyra remarked.

"I'm surprised there's anyone else out here," Cheetara said.

"All right. Let's go see if they need any help, Panthro," Lion-O said, and Panthro altered their course.

Since Felline's recent tune-up, the tank ran smoother than ever. Panthro brought it to a gliding stop near a small, strange cart that seemed to be drawn by a giant caterpillar, her squat body striped vivid orange and white against the rusty canyon walls. One of the cart's wheels lay in pieces in the middle of the road.

The caterpillar-thing and her diminutive driver watched open-mouthed and wide-eyed as the ThunderCats exited the tank. To Felline, walking outside felt like entering a furnace through its blast doors. Her fur dragged at her limbs, hot and limp, but she was too curious to stay inside.

"Need a hand?" Panthro asked the stocky, white-bearded driver kindly.

The little buck-toothed creature wore a pair of baggy trousers tucked into thick boots as if he didn't feel the heat. He blinked small, baggy green eyes. His black nose twitched. "And who can I thank for coming to a poor wolo's rescue?" he asked in a creaky voice that perfectly suited his tall, droop-brimmed hat and floppy ears. His bewildered gaze traveled over them all. Then, when Pumyra stepped up next to Lion-O, he yelped, giving a huge start.

"What?" she asked.

The wolo's expression of slight confusion with the world didn't change, but he spoke matter-of-factly. "Never seen a head that big."

"Lion-O!" Pumyra howled accusingly. She looked ready to bite their king's face off.

"Worry not!" the wolo said soothingly, his own nervousness forgotten. They must have entered some sort of familiar territory with him. He held up a gloved, three-fingered hand, tipped with blunt nails, and produced a corked bottle from an inner flap of his long coat. Smiling, he pointed at the blue solution sloshing within. Adopting a slight singsong tone, he said, "It's nothing a bottle of Ponzi's Miracle Elixir won't take care of. Guaranteed to make all your problems disappear."

Not seeming to notice the suspicious glare Pumyra shot at it from her scrunched-up eyes, Lion-O accepted the bottle. "I definitely have a few problems I could use disappearing," he said with frank candor.

When Pumyra realized he was smiling ruefully at her, she turned her back on him, crossing her arms tightly under her breasts, and stuck her nose in the air.

"I'll take it," Lion-O said, undeterred, and dropped a few coins in Ponzi's eagerly extended palms.

They were all so used to Lion-O's chasing after the easiest solution that nobody commented on it or came to Pumyra's rescue. _Besides_, Felline thought, setting up Panthro's tools for him, _Lion-O is her problem now_.

..::~*~::..

"There. That should hold," Panthro said, giving the ratchet one last twist to tighten the lug nut. He stood, mopping sweat off his brow.

Felline stood up, too. Lucy, the giant caterpillar, was snoozing in the sun, her feathery red antenna twitching with whatever it was caterpillars dreamt of. Felline gave her orange mane one last pat, already fond of the sweet-tempered creature. Her owner, Ponzi the wolo, reminded Felline a lot of her old friend Jorma: eccentric, kind, and generous, as least as far as his shabby pockets allowed. Though she doubted the efficacy of Ponzi's Miracle Elixir, she was glad they had been able to help him.

"Thank you, my feline friends!" Ponzi cried, grandly sweeping off his hat. He then jammed it back on his bald head and leapt with surprising alacrity onto the driver's seat of his odd little cart. It looked like a large metal pot, its belly big enough for Panhro to sit in, while all of Ponzi's possessions were locked in a small wooden chest behind his seat. "And now if you'll excuse me, I must be on my way. Somewhere out there is a town full of poor, tired souls in dire need of rejuvenation."

He grabbed up what Felline at first thought was a whip and slung it out over the caterpillar's furry back. "Onward, Lucy!"

To Felline's relief, it wasn't a whip. It was a pole with a line on the end from which dangled a single, dark green, cinquefoil leaf. Lucy woke up instantly with one of her chirruping purrs, her cheeks brightening to a happy pink, and charged forward on all of her short, stubby feet. The cart rolled off with a clatter, kicking up an impressive amount of dust, Lucy chattering in her childlike voice the whole way.

After a moment of silence, Panthro stated, "There goes one strange lifeform."

"Are we any less strange?" Felline asked.

"Yeah," Panthro rumbled. He knelt to gather his tools, but he didn't say anything else. Felline giggled.

Lion-O, who had been holding his bottle of elixir the whole time, now pried out the cork and offered it to Pumyra.

"Don't even _think_ about using that on me!" she said angrily. It was so weird to hear her normal, raspy voice coming out of that fat, swollen face.

"Might work," Lion-O said, but she turned her back on him again. With a _what-harm-can-it-do_? shrug, he sniffed the opening, winced, and yanked it away from his nose. "Or not."

Just then, a brief quake seized the canyon floor, making everyone shift their stance to keep their footing.

"That can't be good," Tygra said.

Somewhere above them, the top of a rock tower exploded. Rocks and boulders rained down.

"Behind!" Felline shouted, pointing at a dust cloud that darkened the sunny day. From within, two points of red light, glowing like coals in a banked fire, approached. The sound of giant footsteps reverberated through Felline's bones.

"What is that thing?" Cheetara exclaimed.

Felline shrank behind Panthro, fear leaping wild and hot behind her ribs. She couldn't take her eyes from the dust cloud, the giant shape growing inside it.

It hulked out of the shadows. A large, scaly foot, its talons each the size of a scythe, handle included, stamped the dust out of the ground. Then a gust of hot wind revealed the entire colossal reptile, its armored, horned head glinting bone-white under the cruel sun, its skinny arms equipped with more scythe-like talons. Its eyes burned with the fire of Magmel.

A voice that came out of the deepest, darkest sarcophagus billowed from between the reptile's rows of sharp teeth. "I am the last thing you will see before you're torn to pieces!"

"Mumm-Ra," Lion-O hissed in recognition.

"That?" Felline cried. "_How_?"

"Does it matter?" Tygra snarled, crouching as if getting ready to spring. "Here it comes!"

The thing opened its mouth wide in response, revealing a disgustingly fleshy pink tongue. Strings of saliva broke and scattered when it roared loudly enough to shake the ground, and a horrible stench washed over them all. It stank like carrion, like clarg juice, like utter, heart-stopping terror.

* * *

_**A/N:** Lucy! I love her so much. X3 She's such a cuteness overload. Kind of hard to put into words, though._

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Moonlightdeer**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Momochan77**, **Heart of the Demons**, **Seeds of Destruction**, **AndrianaWarrior7**, **Night Neko-Jin**, **Pop-o-pop**, **Flaming Belladonna**, and **booklover1798**. To you, my faithful Readers, I give my most heartfelt gratitude._

_Ever Yours,_

_Anne_


	28. I've given up on titles, whee! part 3

For a creature so huge, the beast gracefully turned to a second rock formation; it was only when it whipped its tail in a roundhouse and the rocks shattered that its power became clear. Razor-sharp chips of stone flew, fast as arrows. The cats scattered. Felline momentarily lost sight of her friends. The monster roared, reaching an ear-piercing pitch that made her cower in pain. Its tail pummeled the canyon floor, forcing her to dodge more rock and choking dust.

A barrage of missiles shot out of the dust like vengeful bees. Panthro must have been able to board the tank. With her heart in her mouth, Felline watched each warhead, trying to see what kind of damage they were inflicting, but there was too much debris choking the air. She covered her face when a hot, smoke-laden shockwave nearly blew her down.

To her disgust, the monster didn't appear to have a scratch on him when the smoke cleared. He roared again. It sounded like a saw cutting through a sheet of metal.

The bony, mask-like skull-face spoke to them.

"In this form I will not tire," Mumm-Ra's magnified voice hissed out of the creature's maw, sounding drunk with power. "I will not break, and I will not stop until you are destroyed!"

He roared a third time, and his tail met the ThunderTank's charge with such force that it rolled the machine over. The great silver tank plowed into the rocks with the force of a warhead. Felline gasped – her father was in there! Had he and the others had any warning at all? Were they all right?

She didn't have time to find out. On the backswing, Mumm-Ra's tail slammed into Cheetara and Pumyra and hurled them to the ground. Tygra latched onto the clawed tip with Javan's bola whip on the third pass, but he was yanked into the air. He lost his grip, sailed clean over the towering monster, and landed near Felline, who leaped out of the way before he bowled her over. Felline slashed uselessly at one of the monster's toes when it stepped down too close to her fallen prince. The blade bounced off the scales, spinning her around. She struck again and didn't even raise a spark.

Mumm-Ra didn't realize she was there, buzzing impotently around his ankle. His attention was fixed on a red and blue speck that leaped and dodged his tail and airborne boulders as nimbly as a fly avoids the swatter. Giving up, she lugged at Tygra's unresponsive form and hoped that the Sword of Omens could do what the rest of them could not.

"_Ho_!" Lion-O yelled, and the Eye responded.

Its red beam struck the Mumm-Ra beast square in the snout, but he shrugged it off as if it had been no more than spray from a hose. One of his short forelimbs lashed out, its three-fingered claws closing around Lion-O, and scooped the cat king to his eye level, dizzyingly high above the canyons.

Felline helped Tygra drag himself to his feet. Cheetara and Pumyra appeared, bruised and battered. They didn't say a word, their eyes on their captured king.

"You have taken your last breath, Lord of the ThunderCats," Mumm-Ra said gloatingly in his echoing, dual-toned voice. He squeezed and Lion-O cried out, kicking as helplessly as a lizard strung up on the gallows.

"What do we do?" Felline exclaimed, shaking under Tygra's considerable weight. She wasn't going to be able to hold him up much longer. On the far side of the canyon the tank groaned, pistons pumping, hydraulics hissing, gears grinding, as it fought to right itself, awkward as an overturned beetle. She glanced frantically around at her friends. "We have to do something!"

"We'll die," Cheetara said.

"If he dies, there's no point in us living," Tygra said. He pushed away from Felline and glared at them. As one, the three women nodded back at him. They would fight, and they would lose, but at least they wouldn't lie down and die.

Cheetara readied her staff, Pumyra her wrist bow, Felline and Tygra their firearms. They crouched, prepared to charge.

They never did. For no discernable reason, the monster suddenly threw back its head and tossed it back and forth, keening in both Mumm-Ra's clotted voice and the cry of a beast in agony. Its claws loosened as if the nerves had gone dead and Lion-O dropped. Landing on his feet, he sprinted toward Felline and the others while they ran to join him as fast as their legs would take them, and not a moment too soon. The monster collapsed to all fours, howling, and then toppled forward, right where he'd been standing.

It did not move again.

Nobody said anything, too surprised to process what had happened.

Panthro and Bastien came running out of the righted tank, Snow hobbling along much more slowly in their dust. All the cats converged on Lion-O, who was gazing close-mouthed at the monster.

"How did you do that?" Cheetara asked in frank awe.

"It wasn't me," Lion-O said, and Cheetara whipped her head around to stare at him. "It was Ponzi's Miracle Elixir."

Felline saw what was left of the bottle, a rapidly-shrinking puddle of blue and a few glass shards. It must have fallen when the monster picked him up. A few lazy wisps rose as the solution evaporated. The wisps explored the cavernous, skull-like nostrils of the fallen beast like ghostly fingers. The stench of both elixir and monster was incredible.

Panthro squared his shoulders and marched forward. "You mean if it wasn't for that crackpot's potion we'd all be dead?"

He knocked a row of metal knuckles against the beak-like muzzle as if checking to see if anyone was home.

"Aw, General, don't do that," Bastien said uneasily.

Panthro raised an eyebrow at him. A sleepy gurgle answered, and Felline took an involuntary step back. The monster's eyes were open; at least, the one Felline could see was. It was glazed over and pupil-less, as if the beast had been drugged.

Cheetara noticed it, too. "Something tells me the effects are only temporary," she said.

"Then we'd better get our paws on more of that elixir before this thing wakes up," Tygra said.

They all exchanged grim looks. Then, without another word, the entire clowder hustled back past a confused Snow, who was just then reaching them. He called angrily after them to wait. Only Felline and Bastien paused to help the old snow leopard into the tank.

"We heard all the noise and turned on the cameras," Bastien said, assisting Snow off the ramp right as it started to lift in order to seal them inside a red-tinged dusk. His gray eyes were huge. "Cleo's safe, all buckled in, but . . . I've never seen anything like that."

"Actually, that was a new one on me, too," Felline said. She folded her gunblade and slipped it back into its thigh holster.

"What, you mean that giant, scaly monsters intent on chewing you up and spitting you out haven't been checked off your Things To Do To Save The World list yet?" he asked. He gave her a shy grin which, after some hesitation, Felline returned.

"Sorry, no," she said, turning to lead the way to the cockpit, since she was sure everyone else had gone there. "The closest we came was an avian guardian of an ancient magical forest. He turned out to be all right, though. No cats on the menu."

"Oh, sure, not _every_ scaly beast is out for death and destruction."

Felline gave an unwilling giggle. It wasn't exactly an apology, but she realized it was the best Bastien could do. If all those months in the gulag hadn't changed him, then nothing ever would. Besides, this wasn't just any monster.

"Mumm-Ra is at the top of the death and destruction list, though," she said. "What _was_ that thing? I didn't think he could transform like that."

Bastien scrubbed a paw through his uneven black mane. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was a sycorax, but –"

"Sycorax are extinct," Snow said grumpily, rubbing his bad leg. "Died out long ago with the other First Reptiles. Doesn't mean the bones aren't still around. Maybe Mumm-Ra dug one up to play with."

Felline thought of the skeleton of the winged beast, left guarding Mt. Plun-Darr in death, and shivered. A giant _flying_ scaly monster would have been worse. "Then it's most likely possession, not transformation," she said. "His magic probably resurrected it so he could take control of it."

"What makes you say that?" Bastien asked.

She looked up at him, ears pricked forward. "I could hear two voices. He's only riding the beast. I'm willing to bet he's still safe and sound back in his lair."

Panthro fired up the tank's engines and pulled it hard to the left, no doubt zooming around the sycorax still drugged out on the canyon floor. Snow steadied himself against the wall, frowning. "Where are we going in such a hurry? Isn't it dead?"

Felline offered him a paw. "Come on. I'll explain on the way."

..::~*~::..

The sun was well overhead by the time they caught up to Ponzi and Lucy, scuttling along at a surprisingly good clip.

"I'm glad he stayed on the main road," Felline said with relief. She'd been worrying about what would happen if they lost his trail.

Suddenly, Ponzi's dust cloud billowed out as Lucy broke into a ten-legged gallop. The metal pot-cart swayed alarmingly when Ponzi drove her through curves too tight for both caterpillar and cart.

"Why is he running?" Tygra exclaimed.

"I don't know," Cheetara said from the co-pilot's seat, "but we have to get that elixir!"

"Panthro, after that wagon!" Lion-O commanded. "I'm gonna try to signal him."

"Lion-O, wait!" Felline scrambled after him.

Naturally, he reached the hatch before she did. She could hear him yelling over the growl of the engine and the rumble of the treads. "_Ponzi! Stop! Come back here_!"

It sounded like he was threatening their little wolo friend. Felline struggled up to the hatch. She popped out the top into the wind and dust while Lion-O frantically waved the Sword of Omens in the air.

Felline, narrowing her eyes against the glare of the noontime sun, watched as Ponzi's little cart sped up further. Although they were heading for a raised stretch of road that resembled a serpent-shaped cliff, Lucy did not slow. Felline thought she saw Ponzi's puppy-like face turned back to them, blank with fear, before he snapped the reins, urging Lucy onto the treacherous road. Her leaf-lure whipped back and forth, forgotten.

"Is he asleep?" Lion-O seethed, still waving.

Felline tried to grab Lion-O's arm, to force the Sword out of sight. "Stop it! I think he's running because he's scared of us!"

Lion-O stared at her, uncomprehending. She tugged futilely at his arm, but it was too late. The ThunderTank took the first sharp curve at top speed, wrenching Felline across Lion-O. She would have gone overboard if he hadn't seized her at the last second. Ponzi wasn't so lucky. Lucy managed the next turn, barely. The cart, however, slipped sideways. It dragged her clean off her many feet and fell, carrying the little salesman and the large caterpillar with it. It landed with a spectacular crash at the bottom of the gorge, where the lockbox sprang open and released a rainbow of glass flasks, bottles, and jugs. Every single one smashed on the hard ground, their contents evaporating in the heat in a pastel cloud.

"Oh, no." Felline didn't wait for the tank to make a complete stop. As soon as it drew close to the scene of the accident, she slithered down the outside and hit the road running. Lion-O was right behind her.

"Ponzi!" he shouted.

"Stay back!" Ponzi cried, clearly terrified. He backed into Lucy, whose face was scratched and dirty but whose eyes were at least open. Shaking from droop-brimmed hat to booted toe, the wolo put up his fists defensively. "It's right there on the warning label: Unwanted body hair, facial tics, and explosive gas."

_Explosive gas_? Lion-O exchanged a glance with Felline, but she shook her head with a weary chuckle. Ponzi was fine, and she didn't want to know what he was talking about.

"We're not _after_ you," Lion-O said as the others came up.

"Y-You don't wanna string me up?" Ponzi hesitantly asked.

"No," Tygra said gently to the confused wolo. "We need your help."

"We're being hunted by a giant monster and that elixir is the only thing that seems able to stop it," Cheetara explained.

Everyone was smiling in relief that Ponzi and Lucy had survived. Even Pumyra, who was, apparently, cured by the simple expedient of time. The swelling had gone completely. Her face was intensely beautiful once more. Even more so, after having spent a day as distorted as a reflection in a water drop.

"My elixir." Ponzi stared at Pumyra, and then broke into the rather frightened smile every showman gave when ad-libbing. "Of course, my elixir!" he said with a shaky chortle. "Didn't I tell you it would solve your problems? Ricketts, warts, giant monsters –" Then he turned to Lucy and said, so quietly that Felline was sure only she heard it, "Remind me to add that to the label."

Lucy answered him with a cheerful chirrup and a smile that revealed her serrated white mandibles.

But Ponzi sighed, turning back to the ThunderCats. "Unfortunately, I have suffered a serious shortfall in my supply."

He lowered his gaze regretfully to the mess of glass and mud that had once been his entire livelihood. Felline felt like she'd been given a blow to the stomach. Even worse than thinking they'd driven two harmless creatures to their deaths was the idea of the sycorax returned to full health and unstoppable.

She wasn't the only one dismayed at the news.

"That was everything?" Pumyra asked despairingly.

Lion-O made a motion as if to take her paw in reassurance, but seemed to think better of it. He stood there, stiff and awkward, and she didn't even glance in his direction.

"Never fear!" Ponzi said enthusiastically, throwing up his arms. "Ponzi's Miracle Elixir is distilled from the leaf of the rare and beautiful caracara tree. We shall travel to the hidden spring where the only caracara tree in existence flourishes. There, I shall (for a very reasonable price)," said in a mutter, very fast, before he returned to his hearty tone, "brew up a fresh batch in no time."

"That's good," Lion-O said, "because no time is about all the time we have."

* * *

_**A/N:** So, if it had been me, I would totally have resurrected the dragon-thing from Mt. Plun-Darr instead of introducing the sycorax. Would have been much scarier. X3_

_I'm sorry, guys - this is an in-between chapter and it reads like one. I tried to keep it interesting for you! Cross fingers that the next one isn't as hard to orchestrate._

_Reviewer Thanks! **KelseyAlicia**, **Heart of the Demons**, **booklover1798**, **The Night Whisperer**, **Blacktiger93**, **AndrianaWarrior7**, **Seeds of Destruction**,** alluras-castle**, **Darwin**, **Momochan77**, **Hestia28**, and **Night Neko-Jin**. You guys! You make this so much fun to do. You know that, right? Hugs all around!_

_Until next time,_

_Anne_


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